


The Announcement

by IWantYouInMyLife



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Femslash, Harems, Heterosexuality, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Hogwarts, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 74,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6391786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWantYouInMyLife/pseuds/IWantYouInMyLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter, twenty-one years old, walked into Gringotts in that Friday afternoon, he would never have guessed that his life would change in such dramatic and bizarre way. In fact, he was only expecting a normal meeting. </p>
<p>Unfortunately for him, his life doesn't do simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Difficulties Of Being Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, humans. How are you all on this lovely day? Still not magical? I know, it's sad.
> 
> Anyway, I'm here to present my new Harry Potter story. I'm super excited about this one! I've always wanted to write a harem story. This plot came to me out of nowhere, and it stuck like gum. So, like a good little writer I went and surrendered myself to the computer until I had something I liked.
> 
> Please, tell me what you guys think, okay?
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. Unfortunately. I'm just gonna have to deal with this.

When Harry Potter, freshly made twenty-one, walked into Gringotts on that Friday afternoon, he would never have guessed that his life would change in such dramatic and bizarre way. In fact, he was only expecting a normal meeting with Ragnok. The letter he had received said absolutely nothing about what the problem was, only that he was needed immediately at the bank.

So, when he walked into the all too familiar office, he was not worried at all, just curious about the sudden calling.

It all changed when the following words came out of Ragnok's mouth.

"Mr. Potter, I'm sorry, but it appears that your situation is about to become a lot more complicated than we had anticipated."

"Please, no more bad news." Yes, he was begging. Slightly. It was humiliating, but honestly, he couldn't handle any more bad news. He already had a lifetime of bad news in his short years. There couldn't be anymore.

"Well, that sincerely depends on your point of view, Mr. Potter. Many would consider themselves to be incredibly lucky," The goblin had a solemn face, and yet Harry had a nagging feeling that he was taking great enjoyment out of the situation.

"Yes, yes. Isn't my life just that?" He added sarcastically. "A lot of terrible situations that all the wizarding world finds great and envy-worth? Just tell me already."

"Well in addition to the Black and Potter title, it appears that you are the sole heir to other five houses," The damn goblin said that very matter factly.

"No, not seven," So, he was whining. He had just learned he was to be married to seven different people; he was allowed a little whining.

"I'm afraid so Mr. Potter, or should I say, Mr. Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Slytherin-Peverell-Dumbledor-Le Fey?"

"Fuck you," He answered, beyond annoyed with the situation. "Can't believe Dumbledork left me as his heir. Good God."

Ragnok only laughed, still very entertained by the misery Harry was so lovely presenting.

"So, do you have anyone in mind?" He asked, half joking and half seriously.

"Oh yes, definitely. I'm so choosing from the line of followers standing outside." Harry Potter could be very sarcastic when he wanted to, and at that moment, he really wanted to. "Maybe I'll marry you, and save myself the trouble."

"As if I'd lower myself into marrying a youngling like yourself," Ragnok responded, lifting his chin and adopting the posture of an offended pure-blood lord.

"Ouch, you wound me," He said with all the dignity he could muster. "No, seriously, Hermione will be Lady Black for sure. She has all the poise, the power and the thirst for knowledge. It's a perfect fit, I can't imagine anybody else but her — and she would kill me if I choose another. The fact that she's a Muggle-born is just a plus really; it will end all of this _'Toujours pur.'_ shit."

"A fine choice," The Head-Goblin conceded with a nod of the head, although Harry was confident that if Hermione were in the room, he wouldn't have admitted that. "A little predictable, though," He added with a smirk.

"What can I say, that's my middle name," He shrugged. "Even though Hermione swears it's 'oblivious.'"

"A fitting name," Ragnok mocked, looking way too happy. "And I suppose Miss. Weasley is to be the next Lady Potter?"

"Of course," Harry added before he was interrupted by Hermione's arrival.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," Hermione Granger, war heroine, and young prodigy, politely greeted as soon as she crossed the entryway.

"You're late." So late, like two whole hours late. That was very unlike her, and it became even more disturbing when she didn't apologize for it as soon as she arrived.

"Yes Harry, I'm very aware of my lateness, no need to be rude. I apologize, but working in the Ministry sometimes obliges me to scream at other workers personally until they do what needs to be done." She smiled a little at the end and, only because he knew her so well, was he able to see the mischief lurking behind it. It always impressed Harry the poise she had all the time these days, her posture and behavior were worthy of any pureblood lady, no doubts.

"And I have every confidence that you did it in the most lovely way possible," Harry added, sarcastically.

"Of course, nothing else would be acceptable," She replied with a wink. Then, turning to Ragnok, she continued. "I had hoped matters wouldn't be so serious but, from the number of papers I see on your table, it seems I was unquestionably wrong."

"Miss. Granger, beautiful as always," The Head-Goblin compliment was a tradition between the two of them, and it was received as it always was, with a nod of acceptance and a little smile. "And, again, as always, right too. Mr. Potter finds himself in the position of having to marry seven different people to assume the seven titles that are, currently, associated with his name."

"Seven you say?" The brightest witch of her age said, turning to stare at her boyfriend. "You just can't do simple, can you?"

"It's not my fault all of these weird things keep happening to me, honestly," He stated, rolling his eyes. "I have no idea how I'm going to do this."

"Yes, about that, I was about to suggest, right before Miss. Granger arrival, that The Announcement be made," The Head-Goblin said, pushing the paper with the houses names to Hermione.

"Did I just hear someone mentioning The Announcement in here?" Ginny's voice cut through the air with sheer force. The years had been immensely kind to the youngest Weasley; no one could deny that.

"Yes, Miss. Weasley, I just did." If that was even possible, Ginny's arrival seemed to make Ragnok smile even wider. Surely this meeting couldn't be so entertaining? "How nice of you to join us."

"Don't get cute with me Goblin, managing a Quidditch team is not as easy as sitting at this old table all day," She said, not even twitching. Unlike the conspirational friendship the Head-goblin shared with Hermione, his and Ginny's relationship was one of constant disagreement. And they couldn't be happier about it.

"Yes, I'm sure managing thirty people, as opposed to the thousand I employ here, is a very tiring job," He deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. "But, alas, we don't have time to discuss this matter today, unfortunately. Your Mr. Potter finds himself in the position of being applicable to The Announcement."

"I have no idea what this is," Harry said while pulling a chair for Ginny to sit.

"No, you wouldn't," Hermione appeared to be a thousand miles away while speaking. "It has not been used in the wizarding world for many centuries, and it wasn't a very common tradition even then. In fact, I believe it was only used five other times here in Britain." She added, handing the paper in her hands to Ginny.

"It's only used when a single person holds more than four titles to his name, and exclusively if those houses are Nobles and Ancients Houses," She continued, before looking his way and mocking. "With these very specifics conditions, it's no wonder it's so rare. Trust you to be the one to do something so unusual."

"If he chooses to do this you are so being the link," Ginny said. "I'll never have the patience to deal with all the absurd candidates."

"Link? What link? Could somebody just explain what the hell is this shit?"

"Calm down Harry, of course, I'll explain," Hermione patted his leg comfortingly. "The Announcement is just what the same suggests, an announcement. You'll announce to the population that you are in need of five different marriages, with whichever specification you desire. Then you'll select two Lords — they need to be already married — to represent you, alongside with a link. A link is a person you're already in a relationship with. In that case, me, apparently." She said, glaring at Ginny, who was smiling angelically. "Anyway, this three people will receive the resumes, if you will, of the ones interested, and select, usually, three times the numbers of people needed by the Lord in question." She poked him in the ribs to illustrate who she was talking about, although it really wasn't needed, especially with that force. "Anyway, these, in your case, fifteen people, will then participate in the meetings. Gatherings that will happen every week for three months and will allow for the contestants to try and win you over. In the last meeting, you'll present marriage proposals to the ones chosen."

"What? You want me to choose the people I'll spend the rest of my life with, in a competition?" He felt almost betrayed that she would consider something like that.

"Harry, I know this may seem like a barbarian concept for you, but try to see it from the practical point of view," Ginny intervened before they could start arguing. "It would take you a lifetime to meet five different people you liked and that were available at the same time. You'd never have time for anything else. Not to mention that The Announcement will give you a chance of meeting people you'd never talk to if it weren't for this opportunity."

"And it would also give the ladies a chance to get to know the others at the same time as you, Mr. Potter," Ragnarok added, pointing to the women at his both sides. "That often makes for an easier life for all involved."

"Fine, even if I agreed with this insanity, what if I don't like any of the participants? Or if I don't like five of them?" He asked, biting his lip.

"Well, the possibilities are very low indeed, as these people will be chosen for you by those who know you," The goblin answered. "But, if it did happen, you would have to start it all again, as you would be bound to The Announcement."

"Bound? Are you kidding?" Harry got up and started walking around the office, visibly nervous. "You guys can't seriously expect me to agree to this madness. No way."

With this, he strode out of the room without a single word of farewell.

"That went well," Ginny joked, happy to not contribute to the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry is freaking out. What's new? *wink*
> 
> Anyway, before anyone comes saying that Ragnok is not actually the Head-Goblin in the books, I wanna make it clear that I'm aware of this. I just took some creative license. Don't sue me.
> 
> And, if you guys want someone on the Harem, feel free to tell me. I still haven't decided all of the characters I want in it, so I'm accepting suggestions. I can't wait to hear your ideas.


	2. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is up guys, be happy!
> 
> This one will explain a lot and, at the same time, bring up some other questions. That's ok; we wouldn't want for everything to be clear on the second chapter right? It would be super boring.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I still am not the owner of Harry Potter. Not yet anyway. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have stormed out like that, but I'm just so angry about this whole situation," The words came out of Harry's mouth as soon as the girls came out of the floo.

Hermione simply sat on the sofa in front of him, while Ginny moved to the kitchen to, presumably, make tea. In Britain, where there's a problem, there's tea. In their house was no different.

"I know," She said.

And it was enough, it really was. They knew each other for so long, and so very well that he could see the sincerity swimming in her eyes. She understood him, and that never failed to humble him.

"I don't wanna lose what we have," He whispered before he could stop himself. The words so raw they left a burning patch inside of him.

The beautiful third of the golden trio said no more, she just got up, sat on his lap, hugged him as strongly as she could and cried alongside her boyfriend.

They heard footsteps and, suddenly, a warm body was holding both of them.

"We'll find a way, we always do," The optimism in Ginny's voice was encouraging, even if a little strained.

"What if we don't? Then what?" He asked the question desperately. "We took so long to get where we are now; I can't risk all of that. How many fights and screaming matches and crying nights did it take for us to reach common ground? Hundreds," His voice was cracking, but he couldn't stop, the words were just pouring out, unstoppable. "We had to go through all this, and now it won't be just us. And I love us."

"I hate it too," Hermione was squeezing his hand so damn hard it probably wasn't getting enough blood in it, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that. Not after everything. "With the three of us, we know how to make it work. But with five other people? I have no idea how even to begin..."

It wasn't often one saw the brightest witch of her age admitting she didn't know how to handle a situation. She hated being perceived as weak or unprepared, he and Ginny knew that. They were there for her at all times, to help her or just to listen to her thoughts. They would never judge her or think she was less of a witch or a person.

Would she fell the need to put up a mask in her own house because of these new strangers about to enter their lives?

"What if you decide on someone Hermione and I can's stand?" Ginny was biting her lips in a nervous gesture she could never get rid of, no matter how much she tried.

He kissed her soft lips gently. "That, I can promise, won't happen. We will choose together, all three of us. We'll all have the power to veto the individuals we can't see ourselves with."

"But what if there's no one left after that?" Count on Hermione to look at the practical side of things. Somethings never did change.

The youngest Weasley buffed incredulous at that. "Are you kidding me? He's Harry Potter, the Chosen One. Every single witch in Europe will be trying to score a piece of that." She gestured to the gorgeous wizard next to her.

The wizard in question was grimacing horribly because of the Chosen One title Ginny had just used. God, he hated this one almost as badly as he hated the Boy-Who-Lived title.

"Surely not Europe. I thought it would be only here, not everywhere else."

"Sorry Harry, but The Announcement is a very traditional... Ritual almost," Hermione looked at their joined hands and continued. "It was invented before the borders were so well defined and so important."

"Ugh," It was the only response he had to that information.

"Are we obligated to do this?" Ginny poured them tea with extra honey to make up for the crappy situation. "I mean, I know how important these titles are and everything, but if Harry wanted not to assume his position as heir would it be possible?"

"Unfortunately, no," Seeing Hermione face Harry could tell she had already thought about that. "It's complicated. Harry is direct heir to the Potter house, as both of his parents were Potters, and is direct heir to the Black house because Sirius nominated him, personally, as his only descendant. All other forms of inheriting a title are only known at the age of 21 — like Harry was. And, when they reach that age, they are bonded, if you will, to the house."

"But wait, I was nominated directly by Dumbledor too. Then why did I only hear this today?" Harry still couldn't believe he would be the next Dumbledor Lord.

"Because he specifically asked for it to be this way," Hermione grabbed the papers she had brought home from Gringotts and gave them to Harry. "After you left we asked Ragnok to explain where the titles came from. So there you have it, Gryffindor and Peverell come from your father side, the Le Fey title comes from your mother side and Slytherin was inherited by you in the form of conquest when you killed Voldemort."

"We asked why weren't your parents know for being the heirs of such prestigious houses," Ginny said, filling up her cup again. "And Ragnok explained that they died shortly after making twenty-one, and, even though they were, in fact, heirs to these houses; they never got the chance to know about it. They were practically under house arrest trying to protect you, so they didn't go to the bank when they got their Gringotts letters."

"After finding out about this, when Dumbledor went to talk to Ragnok about making you his heir, he specifically asked for it only to be divulged when you reached twenty-one. Apparently, he wanted you to have less to worry about for a little while."

"Dumbledork knew about all of this, and he didn't tell me?" He settled his cup on the table with, maybe, a little more strength than was required. "That's so like him is disgusting." Greater Good, fuck him.

Fuck all this shit.

"And does it have to be through this awful Announcement? Can't we just look for people we like?" He was so desperate do not have to do this shit. Really.

"No, it doesn't have to be. But it was invented for this particular purpose, so they probably had a good reason."

"And I meant what I said earlier. There's just no time in our lives to look separately for five other people to marry you. The Announcement gives you, us, the chance to meet a lot of people at once," Ginny kissed his neck sweetly. "If you refuse to do it — if you truly believe is not what should be done — then I support you a hundred percent. You know I will. I want you to be happy, but please, think about it."

"Of course," Hermione added. "If you are truly against it, we'll think of something else. We'll make it work, no matter what. At least, sleep on it, though."

"We'll all sleep on it, and tomorrow we'll vote," He said emphatically. "I want us to decide together."

"You damn right we will. Just try and decide without me," Hermione made a mock indignant face.

"I certainly wouldn't dare, my love. I value my life, and wish to keep it for a little while longer," He answered dutifully.

"We have him nicely trained," Ginny winked at Hermione. "Good for us."

"Hey! I'm right here, you could, at least, pretend I'm the alpha male in this household," The words were so absurd he started to laugh right after he said them, making both his girls laugh with him.

"That was a good one," Hermione praised, getting up from his lap and moving to the kitchen. "I'm making dinner; you guys want something special?"

"Pasta. I need Italian to survive this day," Harry's dramatically answered.

"Italian it is," She said, searching the right ingredients in the pantry.

"Will you have any particular specifications to the contestants?" Ginny asked, giving Hermione the cheese she was looking for.

"I didn't think about it. I suppose anyone over thirty would be weird, so maybe that." He tossed an onion to the awaiting hands of his lovely girlfriend. "Do you guys have any?"

"No one who can't speak English," Hermione immediately fired away.

"Good one," Ginny complimented, peeling garlic at the counter. "No one who doesn't want kids, obviously."

"No one who isn't ready to move to Britain to live with us."

"No one who can't live without hundreds of house-elves. I won't have us being the kind of person who asks others to get a book that is right in front of you."

"I think that's it," Harry said, stirring the pan. "Maybe it won't be so hard, after all." He said seriously.

Only for the three of them to immediately start laughing at the absurdity of that sentence. Nothing is ever easy when you are Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you thought of it and who you guys want in the Harem. There's still time but hurry.
> 
> I'll say it again -and for the last time — not all facts in this story are going to be canon. So, yes, I'm changing some dates, facts, and characters, sorry, but it will all be worth in the end.
> 
> And last, but not least, a lovely person left a reviewed for this story correcting something I had wrongly written. It has already been fixed, and I apologize. English is not my native language, and sometimes I'll make mistakes. Please feel free to tell me if you find any, but be patient with me, I'm trying.


	3. In Between Showers and Whiskeys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, dear readers. I had so much fun writing this one, seriously. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did.
> 
> For those asking, the answer to who is representing Harry in The Announcement is in this chapters. As well as some subtle hints to other things... cookies to whoever guesses correctly.
> 
> I'm overwhelmed by the positive response this story is getting. I thank you all for following and, especially, reviewing. Your kind words make my day.
> 
> Disclaimer: Still nothing on the Harry Potter front, but I'm now the proud owner of a newly broken toe. After that, anything can happen.

They were doing it. He still couldn't believe it.

As promised, they had all slept on it and voted on the following day. All three of them agreeing to The Announcement. So, now they sat on the couch trying to decide what to do next.

"We have to determine who the other Lords are going to be since I was already chosen as the link," Hermione said, looking pointedly at Ginny.

"Oh please Hermione, don't even try to act as though you'd let me be the link if I wanted to," The redhead answered, unaffectedly.

"Well, I would've liked to be given a choice in the matter."

"What for? We all know you wouldn't bear to not be a part of the full process. She just made your life easier. Stop trying to pretend you're not pleased with it." Harry pointed out.

It was the truth, and she couldn't deny it. The resulting blush that covered her neck and cheeks was incredibly attractive.

Ginny, in an unusual merciful move, moved on without any more comment on the matter.

"Anyway, the Lords. Who are we going to choose?"

"I thought about it. Since Hermione is already going to be there, representing herself, I want you to pick someone to represent you, and I'll do the same. That way we all have someone." And he had thought about it, a lot actually. When he said he'd sleep on it, he hadn't meant he would really be sleeping. How could he? No, after the news they got Harry hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep, so he had a lot of time to think about all the possibilities and all the choices he wanted to make. There wasn't room for mistakes in this.

"I think that's a great idea. Do you know who you want?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"Absolutely. Neville has been my friend for a really long time; he'll know what I want and what I can't stand." Her choosing him was not a surprise to both of them. And it wouldn't be to anyone who knew them. After all, they've been best friends since Hogwarts.

"You're choosing Blaise aren't you?" Hermione politely asked, even though her defeated face showed she already knew the answer.

"You damn right I'm calling him. He knows what I want in the women of my life," He said, winking at them.

"You mean he appreciates the fact that you're an ass-man just like him." She looked unimpressed.

"I have no idea what you mean. Blaise and I look for very different asses in our lives." He responded cheekily, exchanging a knowing smile with Ginny. She liked Blaise almost as much as he did.

"That's 'cause he's completely gay, and you're not." Hermione didn't appreciate him nearly as much.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Harry agreed, very obtusely.

"Ugh, whatever. Choose who you want, but don't complain when I murder him." Okay, so maybe she still wasn't over the fact that he had hired a male stripper to her last birthday party. A party her mother and father had attended.

"Please don't, Oliver won't ever let us hear the end of it if you do."

"Are they finally official?" Ginny wasn't the only one curious. Oliver and Blaise's love affair was a big deal in the gossiping world. The famous Quidditch player and the brilliant potion master have been going on and off for the last two years. Never making it official, but never actually breaking up.

"I have no clue. Last week they were fine, on vacation in Paris," Harry said, shrugging. "It wouldn't matter, we all know it's only a matter of time before they finally get together for good. If Hermione did kill Blaise, Oliver would be pissed. Not to mention Pansy, she's scary."

"As if I'd lower myself," She said in a superior voice. If one didn't know her maybe they would even buy the whole act, however, if you did know her...

"Yeah, right. Three weeks ago I came home to the both of you dueling in my living room." The youngest Weasley flipped her long red hair off her shoulder — _God, he loved that hair_ — and pointed to the coffee table, very annoyed. "I had to replace my coffee table Hermione, my coffee table. It was a present from your mom, and I really liked it."

Hermione lowered her head, very repentant. She was still embarrassed for that, he knew. Both Ginny and her mom had complained endlessly about the damn coffee table. It was an antique and she, with a spell that could've mutilated Blaise, destroyed it in a way that couldn't be reversed.

"Common love, she already apologized for it." Even he was starting to feel sorry for Hermione, it had been three weeks after all.

"If that spell caught Blaise he would've been scared forever, if not dead," Ginny pointed out, again.

And that made him falter because it was the truth. It was a dangerous spell, and Hermione knew better than to use it against a friend. She didn't actually hate Blaise; she had been angry, that's all. And losing her control in that manner was completely unheard of, maybe that's why Ginny was so affected.

"I spend weeks studying that spell at work. My head was full of it all the time, so, when Blaise and I started to fight, it slipped out automatically. I don't know how it happened, really. I would never do something like that on purpose; I just lost control." She looked Ginny in the eyes and tried to show how honest she was being. "The moment it slipped out of my lips I moved so that it wouldn't hit him. Unfortunately, the coffee table was in the way. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Ginny hugged her strongly. "This one is bigger anyway, and now, with five more people about to move in, we're going to need the space." She joked.

"Thank God I insisted on building a big house. Otherwise, we'd be cramped here." He said, smugly gesturing to the vast space they were in.

"Harry honey, I don't think a house this big is necessary even with the additional wives. Unless you're planning on fathering forty children," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Maybe, who knows? With seven wives is certainly possible," He tried to keep a straight face but had no idea if he was succeeding.

"Over my dead body," She replied, indignant. "We'd never have any peace if we had forty children, and I like my peace."

"Maybe try and settle for twenty," Ginny said, laughing at the face Hermione had. "We wouldn't want Hermione to have a heart attack."

He pouted and crossed his arms in mock sadness." But twenty is so little."

"Wait until you have to change the diapers of ten kids at the same time. You barely managed Teddy, and he was a sweetheart."

"I so managed Teddy! How dare you?"

"Please, you did not. More often than not we'd find him naked running around the house and you following him with a towel and a bottle." Ginny said, getting up. "I'm getting dressed; we need to go to Neville's and then to Blaise's house."

"That wasn't at all how it happened; we were playing together. I had the situation completed under control."

"Of course, you had, love," Hermione said, patting his arm and giving him a knowing smile.

"You both suck," He complained, levitating the cups to the kitchen.

"Poor Harry, his life is so complicated." Ginny mocked, looking at Hermione with a meaningful look, that was responded with a simple nod.

"Maybe we need to make it up to him," Hermione said, with a pensive face.

"Yes, he is in a stressful situation, after all," Ginny said.

"I absolutely am. You, as devoted girlfriends, should help me," He half suggested, half begged.

They started to climb the stairs without looking back, until about halfway in when Hermione turned her head and asked: "Shower?"

To which is only response was running after them. Yes, life was good.

...................................................

Telling Neville had been easy. The now Lord Longbottom was the kind of person everyone wanted to be friends with, he was calm, loyal and, after years of being friends with them, unaffected by almost anything. He barely blinked when they told about the additional titles. Instead, he asked if they were okay and what kind of help did they need.

Harry sometimes still struggled with accepting other's friendship so easily. Helping people and being supportive was something that came naturally to him, but accepting help from others was an entirely different matter. And he had such good friends... I was hard to believe it.

And so they told Neville about The Announcement and asked him to represent Harry. Well officially anyway, he would actually be representing Ginny, but that was beside the point. His acceptance was followed by a list of requirement his lovely girlfriend had about the girls, to which Neville only answered with:

"Ginny, calm down. I know you, I wouldn't choose someone you'd hate."

And that had been enough for her. She had, after all, chosen him because he knew her so well. She just needed to calm down, Neville wouldn't disappoint her.

They left with promises to meet again to talk about everything more calmly and decide all the little details.

Telling Blaise, on the other hand, hadn't been so easy. Not that Harry expected anything else.

"You're marrying seven girls? Damn boy. I have no idea if you're super lucky or the sorriest bastard I've ever met." The Italian hadn't stopped laughing from the moment he explained the situation.

Ginny and Hermione had gone to meet with Susan for lunch, so he was alone with Blaise. The girls always got together on Saturdays, and he had insisted they went, despite their assurances that they would gladly reschedule to accompany him. Well, Ginny said gladly, Hermione looked more than happy to leave him to deal with Blaise on his own.

"I don't know either. Is going to be so fucking awkward." He said, accepting the glass of whiskey Blaise was offering.

"Awkward? Is going to be madness, that's what's going to be. Seven girls on their periods? I'd kill myself."

"Thanks, you sure know how to help a friend," He groaned. "Maybe I should just run away. Live in the woods with Simba."

"Yes, you and your dog would be a lovely couple. You'd probably last two hours in the woods if you were lucky." Blaise was a bastard.

"I hate you." Harry poured more whiskey. "You're supposed to say something encouraging."

"If I have survived three years with Pansy you can survive anything," He said seriously.

Making Harry spit all the whiskey he had in his mouth. "Now, that's what I'm talking about!" He said, laughing like crazy.

"I'm great, I know." The Italian confirmed as if that's what Harry had just said. "You know, the girls are obligated to put their physical qualities in the files, I'll make sure to choose some blessed one's for you." He added, wiggling his eyebrows in a complete pervert way. "If you know what I mean?!"

"Everyone in the world would know what you meant Blaise, you damn pig," Harry answered. "You're not as discreet as you think you are. Hermione would kill you if she heard you."

"Well, no love lost there. She wants to kill me all the time, and the feeling is mutual." He shrugged, unaffected. "And deny all you want, but I know why you choose me. You don't want to end up with some ugly ass girl, understandable."

"That too, of course." He agreed. "But it's more than that. You know it. I don't want someone who won't understand me and who wants me for my fame. You're a Slytherin; you know how to rip the truth out of people. I need to be sure these girls are for real, and I only trust you to be ruthless enough."

"Don't worry; I'll make sure to make them as uncomfortable as possible." He smiled darkly.

"Cheers to that" Harry said, raising his glass.

Thank Merlin for his friends. Yes, life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you guys thought of it! Like, right now.
> 
> I have decided on who I want as the Slytherin Lady, so I need ideas for the other titles. I also want to add that I'll be adding a few original characters to this story, and, when I do, I want your opinions on them. If you all would like them to be in the Harem or not.


	4. Detentions and Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brand new chapter for you all, hope you guys like it.
> 
> And it, finally, answers the question: "Where is Ron?"
> 
> Don't forget to review!
> 
> Disclaimer: Still not the owner of Harry Potter. I'll write everyone following this story a Hogwarts letter when I do.

"Please tell me a miracle has happened and my name is not on the paper," Harry groaned, entering the kitchen. "Lie to me if it is."

"Your name is not on the front page of the Prophet," Ginny said, dutifully.

"No, not the front page," He denied, sitting on the closest chair and burying his head in his hands.

"Honestly, Harry, stop being such a baby. Ragnok told us the news would be released on all international papers, and, as a huge public figure, you should know it would be front page material." Hermione interjected, already dressed impeccably for work. Her ability to function before 7 AM was something Harry would forever envy, he thought, looking at his still pyjama-covered body.

"I don't wanna be a huge public figure," He grumbled, grabbing the closest food, which happened to be a waffle. Well, maybe the day wouldn't be completely terrible, he mused, happily drowning it with jam.

"Too bad, that's what you get when you insist on being such an attention seeker. You just had to go and kill the Dark Lord, didn't you Potter?" Ginny said haltingly, in a scarily accurate Snape personification. One that never failed to amuse him.

Hermione didn't approve of the whole 'joking about the dead man sour personality' so she hid her smile behind the rim of her teacup. And, because both he and Ginny valued their lives, they pretended not to notice.

"If only Snape had looked so sexy while berating me," Harry purred. "Maybe my detentions would've been so much more entertaining."

"Gross!" Ginny sputtered.

Hermione threw the paper in his lap, still holding the laughter back. "Stop making me have this kind of images during my morning tea. Is not good for me."

With nowhere to escape the boy-who-lived-to-hate-this-title turned to read what that horrible paper wrote about him. He just knew it was going to ruin his day, and he was absolutely right.

**The Chosen One and his Harem**

_Yes, dear reader, you read this right. The savior of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, considered being the most desirable catch in Britain, has just become the Lord of seven houses. Seven!_

_And that's not the best of it. The Head of the goblins, Ragnok, released this morning the news of how The-Boy-Who-Lived intends to find his new wives to be. And, after killing the most blood-thirsty Dark Lord in the last centuries, the now Lord Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Slytherin-Peverell-Dumbledor-Le Fey, couldn't be bothered to do it like the rest of us, mortals. No, the Chosen One just entered The Announcement. A tradition so old it hasn't been used for centuries, after all, one must hold more than four titles to his name, and they must all be Nobles and Ancients Houses._

_Newly-made twenty-one, he is now the most prominent person, politicly wise, in Europe. Women from all its countries are allowed to participate as long as they fulfill the conditions stipulated. They are: Being younger than thirty, able to speak the English language, fertile, available to move in with him after the marriage and not entirely dependent on House-elves._

_The last one, clearly a demand of the girl third of the Golden Trio. One muggle-born witch, Hermione Granger, twenty-one, who's still clearly suffering at accepting the wizarding world traditions. Her and Ginevra Weasley, twenty, youngest one of the Weasley clan, are both, supposedly, living with our savior, in a life of debauchery. The relationship has not been officialized._

_We, from the Daily Prophet, can only wonder if this "relationship" is bound to an end with the approaching marriages. Is Harry Potter finally going to be with women of his status? Or is he going to insist on mingling with the desperate gold-diggers, man-eating, witches from the past? This reporter can only wonder._

_We'll be accompanying this case very carefully to find out who the lucky Ladies will be... I, for one, have already sent my application._

**By Krista Lovebell**

"Man-eating?" He growled. He was going to take great enjoyment in killing her with his bare hands. God, he couldn't believe he hadn't before.

Hermione soft voice cut through his violent thoughts. "Harry, it doesn't matter. It never did matter. I used to get so worked up over articles like that...hating how they portrayed me, like some unworthy mudblood whore. I used to cry, thinking it was a validation of all the horrible things I listened from others. I gave Rita that power over me. But I don't anymore." She reassured him. "I grew up and realized that what's written there won't affect me if I don't let it. Her words are no more truthful than the ones Malfoy said back at Hogwarts. I'm more than that, and everyone who counts knows it."

He exhaled. "Why do you have to be so much better than me at all things?" The magic was still rushing through his body in a frenzy, waiting for him to release it.

"I'm not, and you know it." She got up and nuzzled at his throat softly. "You're so much better than me at being courageous and loving. I'm still learning," She whispered in his ear before kissing him lovingly and leaving the room.

"How is it that she and I are the ones being trashed at the newspaper and you're the one getting to be comforted?" Ginny protested.

"I know, I'm sorry," He mumbled, hugging her. "I just get so angry that I'm being perceived as a bachelor fucking two hot girls — like we're not in a relationship. And that bitch acts as though you are the ones who chased after me and tricked me into staying."

"Well, it is your fault. We've been together for three years, and you have yet to put a ring in either one of our fingers," She said, waving her ringless fingers in his face in a feigned complaint.

"Are you kidding me? If I could, I would be married to the both of you since day one. But I know Hermione would've killed me, and you'd have set me on fire if I had proposed before," Harry complained. "You are the ones who insisted on being powerful women with strong jobs and a name for yourselves."

"Oh, boo hoo, poor little Harry didn't get two lovely stays at home wives to take care of his forty children. What an unfair world," The redhead mocked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, and you know it. I love my successful girlfriends and couldn't be prouder of them," He said, honestly.

"Harry Potter, that statement just earned you a fantastic shag in this very table," Ginny said, waving her wand at the table and instantly cleaning it. She then proceeded to sit on in and grab his shirt to pull him closer.

"You won't see me complaining," He moaned as she kissed his neck.

"Of course not," She agreed smugly. "I'll take excellent care of you."

And she did.

.........................................................

Three hundred and seventy-three women. That's how many people sent their applications to Gringotts. That's how many girls were willing to marry him and have his babies. If that wasn't enough to freak someone out, Harry didn't know what was.

And he didn't even have access to the files. No. Hermione, Neville, and Blaise were going through them separately, separating the possible ones from the _Hell no_ ones. After that, they would meet every Saturday to interview these girls. And only when the three of them decided on the fifteen top choices would he get a chance of knowing their names.

The whole thing was barbarian, truly.

Before handling the files to them, Ragnok had to perform a weird ritual including him, as the person needing the wives; Hermione, as the link; and Blaise and Neville as the representants.

Now he was bound to it until he finally married all seven girls. It was insane and all he could think about. He didn't want to have to do this again; he didn't want to do it now. Maybe the whole running away with Simba wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

At least, he was sharing his anxiety with Ginny. Who, in either a very sweet demonstration of companionship or in a terrible fear of the possible candidates, hadn't asked Hermione or Neville about it.

Not that they had a lot of opportunities to talk to Hermione at all that week. Between her job and the hundreds of files they barely saw her, and they lived in the same house, damn it. He appreciated what she was doing, really, but he missed her.

She took this job twice as seriously as she usually did. It wasn't every day one choose the people they'll get to spend the rest of their lives with. And, to add even more pressure, she wasn't choosing just for her, but for Harry and Ginny too. Even if they had agreed to have someone representing each one of them.

Some things never changed. Hermione always loved learning, and never stopped until she got what she was searching for. It was endearing to him, her passion for life and all it's hidden mysteries, and yet it had always been a reason for fightings with...Him.

Harry's hand reached out, without his permission, to stroke the photo on the nightstand. It was his favorite. Someone he couldn't remember took it right after he killed Voldemort, in the middle of the celebration. They were hugging, so very tightly. All three of them dirty and hurt, but so relieved they could barely stand straight. He missed having both of them.

Ron's death was still a fresh wound inside of him, a hole he had to live with every day of his life. Joining the Aurors had been Ron's dream for years, and no amount of protest about the dangers of the profession could've changed his mind. It was a constant worry for his whole family. Capturing the remaining Death Eaters was not as easy as the ministry had anticipated, the death of their lord made them this much reckless and dangerous.

It was a waiting game.

Until one day Ron didn't return home. Just the rest of his unit carrying his lifeless body — The last gift Rabastan Lestrange left to the world.

They went straight to the Burrow and handled the body to the family, 'cause they knew that's what Ron would've wanted. And still, Mrs. Weasley hadn't been the same ever since. Fred's death had been hard on her, but Ron's completely destroyed her.

In three months time, it would be the anniversary of his death. Almost one year without him, Harry was not sure how he had survived it.

He heard the door open but didn't turn to see who it was.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione's sad voice sound unbearably loud in the mourning silence of the room.

"How will I continue without him?" He whispered, raw and desperate. "There are times I think I'm okay, but then something happens, and it's like I don't know how to breathe. I'm suffocating..."

She grabbed the photo and caressed it, just like he did minutes ago. "I don't know Harry; I really don't. I'm still struggling every day too. I thought that I would remember him the most in the big events, like Quidditch games, birthdays and family parties, but I was wrong, so ridiculously wrong. Ron' death haunts me whenever I drink butterbeer or buy a chocolate frog or when I put on a red shirt."

"Why did he have to die?" Harry knew the question was childish and that Hermione couldn't possibly answer it, but he asked anyway.

And she answered it in the only way she could. "I don't know."

The tears were running down her face, and that broke his heart. "Don't cry," He held her hand and forced the words out.

"You're crying too," She pointed out, wiping the tears off his cheek.

"So I am," He realized.

And they sat there, unmoving, no more words spoken. Crying together over the death of a loved one.

Life was cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sad ending, I know. Killing Ron was difficult for me, but there was no other way.
> 
> Please don't kill me okay? If you do, I won't be able to write any longer so...Think about that.
> 
> So, I want to know what you guys think about smut. Never wrote a sex scene in my life and have no idea if I can make a decent one. Tell me if you'd like this story to have lemons or not. Maybe I'll take a chance and write one.


	5. Bookstores and Crazy Hats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter with a twist. You're all about to see a glimpse of the interviews from Hermione's point of view. As this is only part one, you can expect at least two other chapters with the other girls, who will all be part of the final fifteen.
> 
> There will be OC's in this and the other chapters. If you don't like them, I'm sorry, but please bear with me. I had a lot of work creating these people and am very pleased with them, so give it a chance. Who knows? You might like them.
> 
> A very special thanks to all those who reviewed this story and left kind words of encouragement. It feels great to be appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm only a fan who wishes to play with the fantastic characters. I own nothing and know nothing, kind of like Jon Snow.

_Hermione's POV_

Hermione never really considered herself to be completely straight, she had a deep appreciation for beauty in whichever shape it came from. However, like all other human beings, she had preferences. And, although she would never tell Ginny, blond women were her weak spot.

And so, she would admit that, when Lisa Krum walked into the room, tall, creamy complexion, green eyes and — most importantly — long, thick, wavy blond hair, Hermione's knees trembled a little. Thank God she was seated or else the situation would've been very embarrassing. After all, she was supposed to be doing a professional job there, not ogling the contestants.

She hoped Harry would choose someone else, truly. It would be embarrassing to be made a fool every day, in her own house. Or maybe she should just turn to her and say: _"Your hair makes me wet all the time, so how about we just paint it black so I can move on with my life and be productive again?"._ Yes, that would be just perfect.

"So, Miss Krum, why do you wish to marry Harry?" Blaise asked straight away. No good morning or how is your day. And, she had to admit that, even though she wanted to curse him almost all the time, he had been great with the interviews. Zabini was a true Slytherin, and making people uncomfortable was his specialty.

Hermione waited anxiously for her answer. Maybe if the girl had an annoying voice, she would like her a lot more already.

Unfortunately for her, Viktor's twin had a lovely voice. "Lord Potter is known for his kindness and character strength. Who wouldn't want a chance to be a part of his circle?" She answered calmly. "However, I must admit I'm here today, partly, because my brother encouraged me to do so. Miss Granger and he are great friends, so when she wrote to him about the situation, he immediately expressed his wish for our families to be bonded."

"But don't you think that Harry would be better suited with women he already is familiar with?" Blaise countered ruthlessly. "After all, he is going to be married to seven girls. Why not make his life easier?"

"I think that Lord Potter should be the one saying who he thinks is better suited to his needs," She said coldly, and Hermione would be damned if that didn't make her appreciate the girl's spunk.

"What are your expectations in regards to your future family?" She decided to step in before things got out of control.

"My mother had a rough pregnancy with me and my brother Miss Granger and refused to bear any other children after us." She smiled softly. "It is my wish to have a big family. Children are a passion of mine and, if possible, I would like to be able to take care and educate my babies myself."

"I must admit you surprised me. Not many women in the wizarding world wish to care for their own children." _Especially pureblood women..._ , she completed in her head.

"No one should be raised by thirds," Miss Krum added simply. And something told Hermione she spoke from experience.

"I must agree. Seeing pureblood children being raised mostly by house-elves makes me sick." She hated the mentality that babies were a burden and an annoyance.

"The idea that, because magic is available all the time, it should be used for every single task in our lives is something that should be questioned in our society, absolutely." She had a fire in her, and it reminded Hermione of herself in many ways. "If nothing is sacred anymore then life is not worth living."

Hearing a pureblood women say that made the brunet want to shout happily from a rooftop.

Victory.

.......................................................

Flora Carrow entered the room and bowed smoothly, with an ease that made Hermione's heart clench painfully. No matter how much she practiced and tried to copy the moves, she never achieved this level of sophistication every pureblood women seemed to have naturally. She knew it was a stupid thing to worry about, but she could never quite accept it for what it was — training since they were born — instead of a validation that Muggle-borns would forever be different.

The girl was younger than her, for God's sake. If anything she should be the one feeling inadequate, not her.

"Good morning Lord Zabini, Lord Longbottom, Miss Granger," She greeted. "It's a pleasure to be here."

"Good morning to you too Miss Carrow. How lovely of you to join us on this fine day." Anyone else saying this would probably sound like an idiot, Neville just looked welcoming. Witnessing it was weird. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with everybody else, and she was the only one normal here. Who knows?

"Yes, it's great and shit," Blaise added, clearly not up to the meaningless conversation. Which kind of made her grateful... Seriously, what was wrong with that day? Surely her feeling this amount of positive feelings towards Zabini was a sign of the apocalypse. "Let's go to the real questions here. Don't you think being the daughter of a very well-known Death Eather makes you a very unlikely candidate? Ginny, in fact, had _'classes'_ with your father. What makes you think she would accept you in her house?"

Hermione was so shocked by Blaise bluntness that she felt the air clogging up her throat. How dare Blaise humiliate her like that?

"Blaise!" Neville sounded just as shocked.

"No, it's fine," Flora answered tightly. And, even though Hermione could see the pain lurking in her eyes, her voice never trembled. "He is within his right, as a representative, to ask. It's not like I didn't expect it when I submitted my application."

Blaise simply lifted his right eyebrow, not looking one bit impressed with her answer. But she wasn't done yet, not nearly.

"I'm well aware of who my father is Lord Zabini, or should I say was? Seeing that he was killed by the aurors not a year ago?" She used a conversational tone, as though she discussed her father's death every day. "I also aware of every single crime he committed in all his unfortunate life and bear the weight of my surname wherever I go, as does my sister. However, I'm not, and have never been my father's copy. Quite the opposite really, since I was raised by my mother alone."

Hermione wanted to scream that she needn't do this but didn't dare to interrupt her now.

"As for Miss Weasley, I can only hope that she'll accept my apologies when the time comes for us to meet. I'm under no illusions that she'll like me or even tolerate me, but I hope that she'll be gracious enough to give me the chance to prove myself to be my own person and not some extension of my father's beliefs." She finished her speech with the same poise she began it. Good for her.

"And if she doesn't?" Blaise had absolutely no mercy.

"Then I fear my relationship with Lord Potter won't be possible," Flora stated plainly.

She was right, of course. Harry would never marry someone who Ginny didn't approve of. She knew it, Neville knew it, and Blaise knew it too. He was just making sure she understood the precarious position she was in.

"I'm sure Ginny will not refuse to meet you based on your last name," Neville assured.

"Yes, just bring some strawberry pie with you, and she'll be much more receptive." She would pay for that if Flora really did give Ginny the pie, but it was so worth it. The girl clearly deserved a break.

She laughed softly and responded: "I'll make sure to do so, thank you."

She did have the most soothing voice ever, Hermione mused as the black-haired girl talked.

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?" Neville questioned.

"Well, I own a bookstore for rare potion books. In ten years I see myself still working there, married, with maybe two children." A bookstore! A girl after her very heart. She couldn't believe.

"A bookstore? Truly?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Yes, truly. I was homeschooled, and books were a huge part of my education. One day I realized they were my passion and that I wanted nothing else but to work with something that allowed me to be in constant contact with their knowledge."

"I would love to visit. Bookstores aren't as common in the wizarding world as one would think." The rare books she must have!

"I shall await your visit then," She supplied.

"You'll regret that," Neville mumbled. "Trust me."

"Hey!" She wasn't that bad, was she?

Flora simply looked at Hermione for a few seconds and added: "I don't think so."

And, at that moment, her last name didn't matter one single bit.

.............................................................

A blond woman slid inside the room like it was her own bedroom. She was tall, beautiful and had a crazy unicorn hat on top of her head. It was Luna Lovegood, and Hermione could barely believe her eyes.

"Luna!" She got up to hug the other witch. "Why didn't you tell us you were back? When I saw your file, I could barely believe it."

"Why Hermione, it's because I'm only got back today," She said, turning to hug Neville. "I sent my application from Sweden and came back just in time for this glorious meeting."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Luna had been traveling the entire past year to find enough material for her book. She was writing about the magical animals around the world and Hermione couldn't be prouder.

"That depends on if you're asking about the animals or if you're asking about the positions on the Kama Sutra I had left," She said, matter of factly.

"You didn't! All of them?" Surely no one could perform some of those poses.

"I did, and to be honest I'm a little disappointed. Some of those positions were very uncomfortable." She almost looked puzzled by that. "Maybe if I tried in a padded room?"

"When you start sweating in a padded room it's awful." Blaise supplied.

"Is it? Then maybe you have to be an Indian to understand it correctly," She mused.

Hermione couldn't tell if she was joking or being serious at that moment. With Luna, sometimes it was hard to be sure.

"I was actually asking about the animals," Neville added, amused. "If you had time for them, that's it."

"Of course I did, how do you think I met people?" She reassured, winking. "The Nargles were particularly difficult, as they are very obvious creatures and people tend to ignore the obvious."

"When is the book coming out?" Hermione asked, wondering to herself when did her life become so weird. If someone told her, in her first year at Hogwarts, that she would, one day, be eager to read a book about never before seen creatures, she would've laughed for sure.

"When it's ready," Luna answered as if it was evident. And it was.

"Of course." By now she was well versed in Luna-speak.

"I must admit I'm curious, why Harry?" Neville asked.

"When Harry smiles the Nargles all go away, and the air is so much cleaner. He's a breath of fresh air," She said dreamily. It was such a Luna answer that Hermione couldn't help but smile.

Something told her that Harry also thought she was a breath of fresh air.

..................................................................

"I have to admit Katie; I almost didn't want to interview you," She said. "I don't think I can handle another Quidditch fan at my house. I might end up killing myself."

Katie laughed, not concerned. "That's ok, I understand. And don't worry, I certainly can talk about other things."

She hoped so, 'cause she wasn't kidding. She wouldn't be able to handle the three of them going on and on about Quidditch all the time. Harry needed to choose some girls who spoke her language too or the house will be very unbalanced.

Not that she had anything against Katie, of course not. She was great. Hermione just didn't know anything about her other than quidditch related things, and that was scary.

"Why Harry?" Katie was their last interview of the day, and it was obvious that Blaise was tired. She couldn't blame him, some of the girls they spoke to were crazy. Or just plain psychopaths, she couldn't decide.

"Harry is a great person. He saved my life during the battle and, for that, I'll be forever grateful." She didn't seem offended by Blaise rudeness. Hermione had the impression that Katie was a hard person to anger, which was good. Living in a house with seven other people was bound to be stressful, they needed level-headed individuals who could keep them from killing each other. "I'm tired of being alone and coming home to an empty apartment. I want someone to talk about my life and to love. Maybe that person will be Harry."

"And I suppose his fame and fortune didn't factor in this decision at all?" By now Hermione expected the horrible questions, so she was able to keep a straight face. She understood that Harry felt like he needed someone who could protect him by doing this and she hated that he was right.

"Look, I don't ignore who he is and what comes with it. I know he's rich and famous, but I'm not here because I want money or the spotlight. I have my own money and fame, which I built all alone, without any outside help," Katie replied. "I wish for someone to grow old with, not for a sugar-daddy."

Blaise looked puzzled with the end, and Hermione couldn't help it, she started to laugh like crazy. She looked at Katie, and the girl seemed satisfied with Blaise's confusion.

Maybe she wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to marry all these amazing people myself.
> 
> Tell me what you think and who you wish to be chosen at the end. I want to hear from you guys!


	6. Babies, Royalty, Veelas and Doctors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the interviews.
> 
> Dear readers,
> 
> I have to admit that this chapter almost didn't come out today.
> 
> Yesterday I received some awful news with a denial about something I wanted desperately. There's just no other way to put it; I'm crushed. Absolutely devastated. However, this one was already written, so it was just a matter of putting it out there.
> 
> I hope you guys understand if my next chapter takes a little while.
> 
> Lovely readers, I hope you know that sometimes no words come to mind, and I about to freak out, but one of you writes an encouraging review that motivates me to try harder. And for that, I couldn't be more grateful.
> 
> Disclaimer: No funny innuendo this time. I don't own any piece of Harry Potter.

_Hermione's POV_

"Oh, look! The Ice Queen had decided to grace us with her presence," Blaise mocked, with a fake, angry smirk plastered across his face.

"Do kindly shut up Blaise," She replied, not even looking at him. And then, as if the interaction never happened, she turned to myself and Neville and gave a sophisticated bow. "Good morning Lord Longbottom, Miss Granger."

"You're something else, aren't you?" The Italian wasn't letting it go. "We haven't seen you in four months, not even a single fucking letter Daph. And you show up here, and can't even have the decency to explain yourself?" Hermione knew Zabini enough to understand he valued his friendships more than anything else and was covering his pain with anger.

She looked at Neville and shared a concerned look with him. What was going on there?

"Look, I have my own reasons, and I don't need to explain them to you." Her face was stony, not giving an inch.

Blaise, in a completely out of character move, stood up and hit his hands on the table. "Don't need to explain? Are you fucking kidding me? I've been freaking out... nearly called the Aurors on you," He half screamed. "Even your sister didn't know where you were. And now you come here and act like nothing is going on?" Blaise was shaking in anger, sparks of magic were coming out of his pores.

"I owe you nothing Zabini. I don't need your concern nor your protection. I need nobody," She affirmed strongly, her wand suddenly appearing in her hand.

Hermione got up, ready to interfere. She was puzzled, though. Being an outsider she could see what Blaise probably couldn't, and behind all the bravado and the coolness, she could see the hurt swimming behind Daphne's eyes. She was responding like a true Slytherin, by hiding from everybody and affirming to herself that she needed no one.

Hermione could see all that. But she wouldn't say anything unless spells started flying. She learned her lesson. Don't try to be the peacemaker between two people who didn't ask for it.

"You don't need anybody my arse. I know you Daph, and not from today. You can't pretend with me. I won't let you. What's going on?" He walked forward until he was steps away from her, ignoring the fact that she was giving a step back to every single one he gave forward.

"Don't you fucking get close to me Blaise, I mean it. I will curse you." And she looked like she meant it. What the fuck? What's going on? That was beyond weird. And Hermione was good with weird.

"Go ahead then; I won't stop you." Blaise stopped and raised his empty hands. He was just going to stand there and let her curse him.

"Blaise!" She was so done not interrupting. If someone was going to kill Zabini, it was her.

He turned to her and Neville surprised — like he forgot they were there. "Don't get involved. This doesn't have anything to do with you," He said seriously, giving Neville a look she had no trouble understanding. He was to stop her if she tried anything.

"You're just goin-" She tried, but Neville held her arm and shook his head. He was going to support Blaise's craziness!

Meanwhile, Daphne was so out of it that she didn't even look their way. Maybe too far gone to realize they were even still there.

"You go on. I'm waiting." Blaise gave another step towards her. And, this time, she didn't react to it.

"Why are you doing this?" She sounded truly lost.

"Because you need me to," He answered calmly, trying not to scare her.

"You're wrong. I just want to get this interview over with and go away." Not even she seemed to believe her words, though.

"Really? And where are you going after leaving?" The Italian wondered. "Home?"

"I'm staying at a hotel," She admitted.

"Why Daph? If not your house, you could've come to stay with Pansy and me," He assured, grabbing her hand. "You'll always have a place with us."

Tears finally ran down her face. "You wouldn't say that if you knew..."

"There's nothing you could say that would change our friendship, nothing." And he meant it, Hermione knew. Blaise was an asshole, but he was faithful to the ones cared about.

"I'm pregnant," She finally admitted, lowering her head in shame.

He didn't hesitate for a single second. Blaise sprang forward and hugged her like he was never letting her go.

"For the love of Merlin Daphne, I can't believe you thought that this changed anything between us," He whispered softly. "I'm here; I'll always be here."

"I'm so sorry, so sorry." She, in return, grabbed his robes and cried so strongly her whole body trembled.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, absolutely nothing," He reassured her, not making any move to let her go.

Neville, ever the helpful person, conjured a glass of water for her and handled it to Blaise, not saying a word. Honestly, if Hermione didn't know better, she would think he was a Hufflepuff in disguise.

He waited until she calmed down before giving her the water and a handkerchief.

"Daph, really, what happened?" Hermione was glad Blaise finally asked, the curiosity was burning strong inside her.

"It was a mistake. I was in a relationship and thought he loved me back; it couldn't have been more cliché," She spoke tiredly. "It was perfect, but he lived in Paris and the distance was a constant source of sadness for the both of us, or so I thought."

The brightest witch of her age mind was already ten steps ahead. She knew where this story was going and felt like puking. No woman should have to go through that.

"I traveled there four months ago — like you already know," She continued. "His house was warded against coming mail, but I only found about that right before I left. He never gave me time to write or to floo my friends and family. At the time, it felt great, like he couldn't get enough of me... But I was so wrong."

"Who?" The murderous look Blaise had was an echo of her thoughts. Who had abused Daphne?

"Don't. I just want to move on and raise my child," She said forcefully. "I don't want him to know this baby is his, never. I left as soon as I found out." She then turned to Hermione and Neville, finally including them in the conversation. "And it's also why I signed myself for this. I know it's a terrible reason and that it will give Harry a not so great reputation, but I need to protect my baby. No matter what."

It was odd, Hermione mused. She managed to look apologetic and strong at the same time. Like a mother willing to do anything to protect her child but sad that she had to hurt others to do so. It was fitting she supposed.

"I don't think Harry cares much about his reputation," She said seriously. "That's not the problem. Are you willing to spend the rest of your life with someone you're not interested?"

"I would do so much more Granger; you have no idea."

"In that case, I wish you good luck." It was the best Hermione could do at the moment.

........................................................

Hermione never met anyone from royal families, but, if she had to guess, she would say Vasilisa Dolohov was the personification of royalty poise.

She had long, perfectly straight, black hair, mysterious blue eyes and a white complexion which made both her hair and eyes stand out that much more.

The Dolohov heiress walked into the room, a gorgeous fur coat covering most of her body, leaving only a patch of shaped legs to be seen.

"Good evening Lord Longbottom, Lord Zabini, Miss Granger," Her sultry voice was truly impressive. It sounded like she had already seduced you and were aware of it. Harry would love it.

"Good evening Ms. Dolohov, to what do we owe the honor of having Russian royalty in our humble country?" Blaise graciously asked.

"Lord Zabini, I have no idea what you mean. I find England a wonderful place." Her red painted lips wrapped around the words in a very mesmerizing way.

"Your father clearly agreed," The Italian responded without missing a beat. He wasn't going to let himself be manipulated that easily.

"I love my father Lord Zabini, and won't stop doing so just because he made mistakes," She spoke in a way that suggested she had had to explain that before. "I agree with none of his beliefs, but that doesn't dimish my affections."

"Yes, I can just see it. _'Chosen one new wife goes to visit Death Eater in Azkaban: Is he going dark?'_ Painted across the first page of all newspapers. It'll be great," He mocked.

"Well, you needn't concern yourself with such matters. My father, as a member of the Dark Lord's inner circle, isn't allowed to have visits," She coldly responded.

"I apologize Miss. Dolohov," Neville intervened. "But I'm sure you can appreciate our positions. Harry's marriages will be extremely public and, any possible weakness will be explored."

"Yes," Hermione added. "I also wonder about your possible affections for a man who, inadvertently, put your father in jail."

"I certainly understand both of your concerns," She assured, with a softer expression. "But I don't resent Lord Potter for what he did, quite the opposite actually. He saved a lot of people from a large amount of suffering, my family included. I have no lost love for the Dark side, Miss. Granger," She smiled softly at Hermione. "You can rest assured."

Her smile was dangerous, the brunet realized. It made you pay attention to her lips only, and nothing else. Damn her.

"Why Harry?" She had to know.

"I want to build a different reputation for my family name," She looked to Hermione and no one else. "I wish for the Dolohov family to be known as the good respectable people they are, and not for my father errors. And I can't think of no one better to do that with than Lord Potter."

She didn't lie and say she was attracted to his beautiful soul or that she wanted nothing out of this but happiness. Vasilisa was honest enough to tell the truth. Why did that make Hermione interested?

............................................................

"You're underage. I don't know if I'm comfortable with that," Hermione was the first one to break the silence.

"I'm a quarter veela, maybe that helps," Gabrielle supplied, shrugging in a way — Hermione tried to convince herself — wasn't cute.

"How would that help? Is it because you're hotter?" Blaise said, unhelpfully.

"No Lord Zabini," Gabrielle laughed. "It isn't because I'm physically attractive."

"For the Love of God Blaise, must you always be so rude?" Hermione turned to him, giving a dark look. "It's 'cause veelas — when entirely so — start sensing their mates at sixteen. So, in a way, she's seen as an adult by the veela community."

"Well, we aren't the damn veela community. When Harry took you out of the bottom of that lake years ago, you were a child. A very young child, with a baby face. I don't know what he'll think about this." Zabini had a point there; she didn't know how he'd react too.

"I might have to agree with Blaise on this one. Harry has to find five girls to marry from the group we choose. If he doesn't, he'll have to do this again. We'll have to do this again," Neville frowned, clearly not wanting to do this process again.

"I assure you I'm very different from the girl he met all those years ago. I no longer need saving and am not star struck by his fame and name," The blond girl said, looking serious all the sudden.

"Aren't you? Truly? Because I have to admit, it's been a long process, these interviews. The number of fangirls we met was astonishing and depressing." That was putting it mildly. Hermione was thinking about putting more wards around their houses just in case.

"You forget I'm Fleur's sister. She is friends with him and would've never let me send my application if she thought I would hurt him in any way." Which was, in a way, true. Veelas were very protective.

"Why did you send your application then?" Neville questioned.

"Luna spent a few months in France with my family and me and, in that time, we spoke a lot about our lives and the war. And, every time she talked about Harry, my veela side simply purred. I can't explain, I just thought of him and felt warm inside." Hermione worked with magical beings; she knew what that description meant.

"You're a quarter veela; you can't sense your mate." She affirmed, sure of what she was talking about.

"Yes, you're correct. I'm not certain he is my mate, and I'll never know. But, still... Maybe if we met, I'd be able to understand why I'm feeling the way I do," She agreed, looking a little lost.

"So visit his house, no need for you to marry him," Blaise said, rudely.

"He's bound by The Announcement; he'll have to marry five girls from these files you're holding. What if I found out I wanted him after you had decided on the final group? I couldn't risk it." Hermione understood that. Even as a quarter veela the feeling was probably still there with enough force to be uncomfortable to resist.

"I see absolutely no problem with helping her." Hermione turned to Zabini. "With the way you're going, I don't think we're even going to reach fifteen girls. She deserves to know."

"Thank you." Gabrielle gave her a little grateful smile.

"Aren't you the heiress to the Delacour name? Fleur took the Weasley name," Neville asked, probably not aware of the marriage contract between Bill and Fleur.

"Fleur made an agreement before marrying that her second and third children will be Delacours. I'm free to take whichever title I desire." The youngest Delacour explained.

"Well, that makes sense. It's not as though there isn't enough Weasleys in the world already," Blaise taunted.

"That's true. When will we have Zabini babies?" Neville asked, smiling sarcastically towards Blaise.

"When someone manages to convince Pansy to get pregnant," He answered straight away.

She laughed alongside Neville before asking: "Will that be in this life still?"

"I have no bloody clue. That woman is more complex than Luna, and that's saying something." Which was an exaggeration, they all knew.

"Didn't you guys make a contract?" Gabrielle, naively, asked.

"We did but try telling her that."

"But do you want kids now?" Hermione was curious; he never mentioned children before. At least not in her presence.

"I'm not particularly anxious for the pregnancy stage... but maybe soon. A baby would be nice. Teddy is getting too spoiled." The sincere answer startled Hermione; she thought he was going to evade.

"It's the privilege of being the only baby in a group full of pushovers," Neville stated.

"I'm not a pushover!" She was not, how dare he?

"Oh, please Hermione. I once saw you cave and give him chocolate because he was pouting. And that's not even close to the worst of it," Ok, so maybe that happened once, or twice. But that didn't make her a pushover, right? She thought, feeling her face get warmer.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Gabrielle assured with an encouraging smile.

"See?" Of course, there was nothing wrong with a little chocolate. She was just the cool aunt.

"Common Hermione, she's only doing that because she wants to get into your man's pants." The horrible man sitting next to her said with a wink.

And, in a strange moment of synchrony, they all started laughing together.

..............................................................

"I gotta say Padma; I'm surprised by your presence. I thought the ball in our fourth year had scared you for life," Hermione said, trying not to think about Ron.

"It did not. Harry was, actually, very nice about the whole thing. He sent me and my sister presents and letters, thanking us for our patience and apologizing for the terrible night," Padma Patil said, smiling fondly of the memory.

"Did he now? He never said anything." She was so teasing him for it when she got home.

"I'm sure all he wanted was to forget the entire night." Who could blame him? Hermione herself wished the night could be forgotten.

"I, for one, had a fantastic night that day," Neville added, in a rare moment of smugness.

"You know, just because you found the love of your life at fourteen doesn't mean you can just rub it in everyone's faces," She pointed out.

"Yes, it does," He countered.

"Speaking of Susan, congratulations on your wife's pregnancy Neville," Padma said with a smile.

"Thank you; we couldn't be more happy about it." That was certainly true. Susan absolutely glowed — they both did.

"I thought you guys hadn't made it public yet," Blaise frowned.

"They haven't Lord Zabini; I'm a healer. More specify, I'm an obstetrician and a pediatrician," Padma answered the unspoken question. "Susan is my patient."

"Yes, Susan was very pleased to find a familiar face inside St. Mungus," Neville added.

"Actually, more than one familiar face. I work with Tracey Davis and Susan met her," Padma corrected. "We sent our applications together."

"We haven't had a chance to interview her yet. It's bound to be interesting, seeing that Daphne is also a contestant," Blaise said, looking thoughtful.

"Let's not speculate," Hermione interjected before things got out of track. "Padma, we need to know why you choose Harry."

"You shouldn't ask people that, you know," The former Ravenclaw said. "We — all of us who decided to be here — didn't just choose Harry. You, Ginny and him are a package. We all know that."

Why did that hit Hermione like a slap in the face? She always asked about Harry but never mentioned Ginny or her explicitly, even though they would be in the relationship just as much. She never considered that her presence would be factored in the girl's decision to send or not their applications.

"Why did you want us?" That felt so weird. Hermione was unused to people wanting her.

"I never liked to be alone, even when I was young. I thrive in a mess, in the chaos, in a full room," Padma explained. "My sister just got married to a guy who wasn't here for the war, who knows nothing about what we went through. I don't think I could live like that. I realized there was no one better for me than Harry, and subsequently you two, who fought with me and grew up with me."

Hermione understood that completely. She would also never marry someone who wasn't there for her in the worst part of her life.

"Do you think you'd be able to fit in with such a well know group of people?" Blaise asked.

"Harry, Hermione, and Ginny will always be just that for me: Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. I don't see them as famous individuals, and I don't want to take advantage of them," She stood proudly and told Blaise her truth. "So yes, I could see myself being with them."

After that, it was all unimportant matters that they had to check with all the girls. Padma answered the important part with poise and sincerity. Hermione didn't know if that was great of awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it.
> 
> I'm sorry for the people wishing for Susan in the harem. I just love the idea of her and Neville together.


	7. Between Sisters and D Cups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know it took me a long time to post this one, but I really needed the time to myself. Things got a little out of control, and I had no time to do anything. I tried, but there simply wasn't enough space in my life for me to sit down and organize my thoughts.
> 
> But now I'm back. If nothing crazy happens, I'll go back to updating this story in the same rhythm as before.
> 
> We're almost done with the interviews; the next chapter is the last one. I'm super excited for the dates; I have so much in store for you guys!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this.
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who sent me adorable reviews, giving me support. You rock, honestly. Don't give up on me, please.
> 
> Disclaimer: One day Blaise will be mine. But, alas, is not today. Today I'm still not the owner of Harry Potter.

_Hermione's POV_

She was the typical Sports Illustrated's girl. Tall, tanned, long hair cascading down her back... The type Hermione never was and never would be. She looked their way, and Hermione almost choked, those violet eyes, no one could mistake where they came from.

"Must you do this?" Blaise whined, managing to sound both frustrated and resigned at the same time. This, clearly, wasn't a new discussion between the siblings.

"Blaise dear, a Lord doesn't whine. It's unbecoming," Alessa Zabini mocked, in good spirit. "Don't you think this is a great opportunity for our families to bond? You and Lord Potter will be brothers."

"I don't want to be Harry's brother, and you know that. I barely stand him as an acquaintance," He lied, shamelessly.

"Really? Is that why I'm yet to meet him, even though he's always at the Manor?" She didn't miss a single beat.

Hermione had to contain a smile. Anyone who could put Blaise in his place had her favor — that she was his sister only made it that much more amusing.

"I have no idea what you mean. You're the one who spends all of your time traveling, and it's never home," He answered back.

Hermione shared a glance with Neville. Were the siblings really going to ignore them?

"I wanted to see the world little brother, stop being such a baby. There's more to life than Hogwarts and the Manor." Which was entirely true. Hermione's parents had always considered traveling to be very important, and she always loved it. Meeting new people and seeing historical places was a passion of hers. It was simply impossible for her to understand some wizards who — being able to apparate or portkey to any location on earth — choose never to leave England at all.

"Is staying here, settling down and becoming a mother going to be a problem?" She finally interrupted.

"I apologize, Miss Granger, for mine and my brother's rudeness," She said, looking properly chastised. "To answer your question, no, it will not be a problem. I wanted to have experiences and adventures in my life — couldn't bear to be one of those pureblood ladies who do nothing more in their lives other than marrying some rich guy," Alessa continued, strongly explaining her life's choices. "And I did. I've traveled to where I wanted to go and saw what I wanted to see. Now I'm ready to have a family and share my stories with some little people."

"Ginny will love that," Neville whispered to himself. "Strong and adventurous is her thing."

"And the fact that you're Blaise's sister?" Hermione didn't know why she was asking that. But she couldn't ignore it any longer, Alessa was Blaise's sister, and Hermione didn't know how to deal with that.

"Well, unless you wish for me to get rid of him, there's nothing I can do about this unfortunate situation." She winked. "But he can always disappear."

Hermione could help herself, she laughed. Maybe Alessa would become a fine addition to their family.

..........

"Don't even think about it!" Blaise ordered as soon as she left the room.

"Blaise..." Neville said in a defeated voice.

"Don't you 'Blaise' me! I'm serious; she's my sister!" He stated the obvious in such an emphatic way that it almost appeared to be something relevant. But it was not, of course, it wasn't. Had she forgotten that this was Zabini?

"Stop being such a child Zabini. She's a free woman, not your property." How was she supposed not to kill him?

"I'm not saying she is, you insufferable woman. Imean she's my sister, and I don't want you all married to her. It will be so awkward," He grumbled like the real child he was. "Alessa is probably only doing this to annoy me."

"You know, she is the older sibling," Neville was enjoying this. The traitor. She could see it in his eyes, that he loved Blaise's tantrum.

"So? That means nothing." Merlin, perhaps she should marry the girl. Maybe then Blaise would disappear from her life. Permanently. "My best friend shouldn't marry my sister; it's just not right."

"Who knows? Maybe she's just that desperate to change her surname. I certainly would be embarrassed to share it with you," She shrugged.

"Please, who wouldn't want the Zabini name? It's noble and strong," He said, looking like a right asshole... She knew so many spells; Harry would never know.

"How about anyone who's sane?" She answered, impatiently. "Merlin only knows why Pansy did it."

"Only you wouldn't want it, Hermione. And that's 'cause you're completely bizarre." He rolled his eyes at her. Rolled his eyes.

"I don't know why I waste my time arguing with you Zabini, honestly. Every time you open your mouth I feel my precious brain cells committing suicide." She heard Neville snorting. Well, at least someone was finding this amusing.

"If you think I'm bad now, imagine if we were family," He smiled darkly.

She shivered immediately. Thinking about it, Alessa wasn't so great after all.

"Oh, fuck off Blaise. The room isn't big enough for your bullshit." She got up and left. Hermione needed a strong coffee and some chocolate; otherwise, Harry would have to deal with another dead best friend.

.................................................................

"Demelza Robins," Neville read the name on the file in front of him.

"I don't remember her," Blaise said, looking at her picture.

"She's two years younger than us, that's why. You only worried about girls you could sleep with," Neville explained, grinning at him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," The Italian shrugged, not even pretending to be serious.

"Anyway," Hermione interrupted before the discussion could go any further. "She's a professional chaser. You think that's going to bother Ginny?" She asked Neville. "What if they have to play against each other?"

"I actually think Ginny would like that," Neville said. "She's competitive to the bone and, right now, she doesn't have a very good channel for that. Maybe with somebody close, she could have a healthy competition."

"I agree with Plant Man," Blaise added. "Lava Girl would appreciate a girl to practice with, at home. Harry doesn't play so much anymore."

"God, I don't know. It's like I told Katie, I'm not sure if I can handle more Quidditch talk in my bed," Hermione said, frustrated.

"Hermione, we're choosing five girls. If Harry picks four girls you can have great conversations with, and one Quidditch fan, you'll have enough people to hide away with in times of need," Neville comforted, holding her hand. "Think about it."

"And Quidditch girls are athletic, the sex is great," Zabini added the unnecessary comment, like always. "You like Ginny."

"Well, that is true," She ignored the grin he had. "I mean, we have two girls in here that I'm more inclined to," She said, pointing to the small pile of files they approved.

"I think we can all guess who they are," Blaise grinned even wider. "Ginny will go nuts when she sees them."

"Ugh, don't even tell me about it. She can be so jealous sometimes," She complained, pouting.

"Oh, please Hermione, who do you think you're kidding? You're a huge sucker for Ginny," Neville argued, "You like her jealousy."

"I do not." She denied, knowing that she was convincing no one.

"Well, if you like redheads, you're in luck. Demelza is Lava Girl 2." Blaise showed the photo.

The girl looked nothing like Ginny, though. Her hair was full of waves and way lighter than her girlfriend's. Demelza's body was stronger and fuller, more suitable for the chaser position.

"Well, Ginny certainly doesn't have these D cups." Merlin, couldn't Zabini shut up for 2 seconds?

"She couldn't be here, so she sent a letter," Neville said, handing her the said letter. "How about you read it for us?"

She grabbed the envelope and opened it.

_\- Lord Longbottom, Lord Zabini,_

_I hope this letter finds you both well. I'd like to apologize for my absence; I couldn't be dismissed from practice. However, if you don't mind, I'd like to direct my letter to Miss Granger, seeing that she's the most involved person._

_Miss Granger, good afternoon,_

_I, again, apologize for not being present, but the training season is hard, and I'm currently out of the country. I'm sure you are familiar with the routine._

_I hope you won't find me too presumptuous if I answer what I imagine are some of your questions about me._

_First of all, your dislike of heights and sports precedes you, and so, as a professional Quidditch player, I can only wonder about your excitement in having me as a part of your family. About that, I can only offer my sincere apology; Quidditch talk must already rule your life, I'm sure._

_However, I'd like to point out that there's more to me than that. I'm a half-blood, and my mother was in love with the classic muggle literature. She always said that wizards couldn't write good romance to save their lives, and I tend to agree with her. Reading the classics makes me relax whenever I'm too stressed — coincidently Shakespeare is one of my favorites._

_I've decided to send my file because I'm ready for my next adventure, I'm ready for the next step. I love freedom, and I love the excitement of the unknown. I want to climb the mountain and see the path I've walked. I hope to do that with you and your family._

_I lost all my family in the war, and the death of my brother was perhaps the most difficult one for me. Being an only child is horrible, and I wish for a big family for my kids. Being alone is far too big of a burden._

_Having said that, my schedule is insane. I train for two months, out of the country, every year, and then there's the actual gaming season. Managing a traditional family would be nearly impossible for me. I know you understand. More people involved is actually a big plus for me. It helps me and those who are around me._

_I hope this will be enough for me to be considered._

_Best regards,_

_Demelza._

"Harry will like her," Hermione murmured after reading the letter. "The whole idea of freedom and excitement is the reason he likes playing so much."

"But what do you think of her?" Neville interrupted her musings.

"I don't know what to think. She seems fine, but when you walk with Harry for as long as I have, you learn to be distrustful of everybody," She confessed. "The fact that she isn't here, personally, to say those words leave me a little nervous."

"You have every right to feel like this," Blaise surprised her with his understanding tone. "I often felt the same, and I've known Harry for way less time."

"But I don't want my fears to get in the way," She denied. "I can't think of a single reason for her not to be given a chance."

She looked at them for confirmation. When they nodded their heads, she carefully put Demelza's file on the approved pile.

_Breathe Hermione; this will not go wrong._ She said to herself. _We'll find the right girls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to whoever guesses the two girls Hermione is secretly considering correctly.
> 
> I know this is a small one, don't kill me. There's more to come, I promise.
> 
> Anyway, don't forget to leave a review saying what you guys thought about the chapter.


	8. The Sweet End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part of the interviews, finally.
> 
> We'll meet the last two girls who will fight for a place in Harry's family.
> 
> I'm so excited for what is coming! If any of you think that the wives are already chosen and will be the obvious ones, then you are sorely mistaken. I'm open to suggestions and comments, really.
> 
> Of course, I have a direction I want this story to go, but it's important to me that all of you vote for who you'd like to be picked.
> 
> I hope you guys like it. Don't forget to tell me!
> 
> As always, I want to thank every special person who favorited, followed or reviewed this story. It means the world to me that there are people who enjoy what I write.
> 
> Disclaimer: Still not the owner of Harry Potter. Or maybe I am... Who knows?

_Hermione's POV_

"If it isn't the most Hufflepuff girl Slytherin has ever seen?" Blaise greeted happily.

"Oh, I've forgotten how annoying you could be," Tracey Davis said the words like she was complimenting him instead of the complete opposite. That sort of talent was something Hermione could appreciate.

"That's 'cause you've abandoned me to deliver ugly babies," He pouted.

"You were an ugly baby once, you know?" She kindly informed.

"I was not!" Blaise denied, shaking his head to emphasize the point. "For your information, I've always been this awesome." He gestured to his body as if he was Adonis himself.

"Please, I taught you how to charm away pimples in our fourth year because you looked awful," Tracey mocked, waving her hand in front of his face.

"Tracey! I thought we had agreed to never talk about that," The Italian demanded, caressing his smooth face.

Hermione and Neville just laughed quietly, without interrupting. That was just too good to miss.

"Are you still obsessing about the pimples?" Tracey asked, shocked.

"I'm not!" He denied too strongly, convincing no one.

"Right..." Hermione could tell that the brunet thought Blaise to be a little weird, which didn't surprise her in the least.

She saw, in her peripheral vision, Blaise taking a deep breath before asking abruptly: "Did you know about Daphne?"

"No," Tracey whispered, clearly upset. "You know I didn't. We haven't spoken for a long time." She tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip before continuing. "I only know now because she came to the hospital for a consultation."

"But you aren't her doctor," Blaise wasn't asking. "She said Justin Finch-Fletchley was the one responsible for her case."

"Yeah, I figured she wouldn't be comfortable with me," Hermione could barely hear the last word, and it made her wonder what exactly had happened between the girls.

"Won't you ever try to fix things?" Blaise pushed it, like the idiot he was.

Merlin, she ought to rid the world of his terrible presence.

One day, Hermione promised herself.

"Will you ever let us talk about what we are here for?" Hermione interrupted. "You can embarrass her in your own free time."

Tracey looked relieved, grateful and perhaps a little angry. Hermione got the impression she wasn't the only one wanting to murder Zabini.

"So, Miss Davis, why are you here?" Hermione asked.

"Tracey, please," She insisted, before continuing. "You know, I work at a place where I see happy couples every day. They come and go, leaving with an extra member to their families. And for a while, I convinced myself that it would be enough for me to live my life vicariously through them."

Tracey looked directly at Hermione, maybe trying to convey a message.

"I know you understand what it's like to love your job," She went on. "And I do, always have. Because of that, I wanted nothing that could hurt my career in some way, even if it meant I would never have my own kids or a happy marriage. But now I'm not so certain. Maybe it would be okay to have a not so successful career and a loving family."

Hermione felt directly touched by her speech. Trying to balance out her inner need of proving herself all the time and her friends and family was her personal everyday battle.

"Yes, I can promise you it's worth it," She spoke with confidence. Yes, it was definitely worth it.

..............................................................

"An unspeakable, what an honor," Blaise greeted as soon as Fay Dunbar crossed the door. However, even though Blaise said the words, Hermione had the impression not even Merlin himself could honor Blaise.

"Please, forgive him, Miss Dunbar, Blaise lost his sense of propriety a long time ago," Neville apologized smoothly.

"That's okay. When one signs up for this kind of interview, they should be ready for everything," She answered strongly and firmly. Fay Dunbar had the voice of someone who gave orders and expected them to be followed without questions.

"See? She understands," Blaise added, unrepented." So, Miss Warrior, are you planning to be gentle with our little savior? We might miss him if you accidentally kill him," He asked, looking at her muscular body.

"Of course, I wouldn't do anything to him that wasn't explicitly asked for." It almost seemed provocative, but her face remained neutral.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure one can trust Harry to look after his own life," Hermione said. "Maybe it would be better not to do all he asks."

"I'll try to remember that," Miss Dunbar promised, looking amused for a second.

"Why are you here?" Neville asked in a tone that made Hermione think he was finding Miss Dunbar intriguing.

"It's hard to date an unspeakable," Her face was completely blank, like a robot. It was disturbing and fascinating at the same time. "Not everyone is ready to date someone who won't be able to tell you about their job. People think that with time and intimacy I have to trust them enough to talk about it all. Only it's not about trust or love; I made a vow that I can never break."

Hermione felt for her, truly. It mustn't be easy for her to be in that position.

"I want to have a lighter part of my life, with stories I can tell and jokes I can laugh about," She finished with a small smile, almost uncertainly.

Hermione smiled back, wondering who this woman was when she thought no one else was looking.

........................................................

"I can't believe we're finally done," Hermione sighed gently. "There were days when I thought this would never end."

"And we have eleven approved files," Neville added. "I honestly thought Blaise was going to make all the girls cry."

"Well, we were supposed to have fifteen, but it's not my fault all women are apparently insane," Blaise shrugged, obviously not concerned with the low number of girls chosen.

"They were not all insane Zabini; you vetoed a girl because she said her favorite food was salad," Hermione protested.

"That's just not natural Hermione," He confirmed. "How can someone's favorite food be cucumber salad?"

"It was weird," Neville agreed, in a surprising move.

"Really?" She couldn't believe they thought that was a valid reason to dislike a person. "And the dog girl?"

"Don't even go there," The Italian warned. "She said her dog was a messenger from God. She worshiped it."

"Okay, so maybe she was a little confused," Hermione conceded, looking through the rejected pile. "But you didn't have to say the things you did. I thought she would have a panic attack for a second."

"Confused? Hermione, where we in the same room?" Blaise demanded. "She kisses the dogs paws every morning for good luck."

"And the dog was hideous," Neville pointed out. "I don't think she ever gives it a bath."

"Probably thinks God cleanses his spirit and that's good enough," Blaise shrugged again.

"I think we have enough girls Hermione, I truly do," Neville reassured. "And none of them seem like they'll kill Harry in his sleep, which is good."

"I wouldn't be so sure, that Dolohov chick is weird," Zabini pointed a finger at her file.

"And hot," Neville added, smiling. "Maybe she'll kill Harry with sex."

"That wouldn't be so bad," Blaise agreed.

"Yes, it would," Hermione corrected. "I need Harry alive Zabini. Otherwise, that dog will drive me crazy."

"I think Simba annoys you on purpose, because of that time in the mud," Blaise snorted.

"Fuck you Zabini, that was an accident." She threw the nearest file at him.

"Do you remember that day when Harry ate Simba's food..."

As they laughed together about past stories, Hermione looked at the pile of files and wondered if she would ever be able to love anyone other than Harry and Ginny. Life would be terrible if she had to share her house with girls she only tolerated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the games begin!


	9. Hot and Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new chapter is up! Did you all miss me?
> 
> I know it took me a long time to update this chapter, but unfortunately, that's how it's going to be from now on. My obligations are like a neverending pile, and I simply haven't the time to do everything and be everywhere at once. I'll try do be as fast as I can, but I have no idea how often I'll be able to write, so bear with me, please.
> 
> As always I'd like to thank all the amazing individuals who review this story, saying incredible things about it. It's ridiculous how happy I get whenever I read them.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any single piece of Harry Potter or anything related to it. If I did, we'd be getting the book number thirty-four by now.

Harry Potter — savior of the wizarding world, The Chosen One, The-guy-who-just-will-not-die — should be behaving like the Lord he was. He ought to be patiently waiting for Hermione's arrival, maybe doing some paperwork. Yes, that's what he should be doing. Instead, Harry was pacing back and forward in the living room, trying to be optimistic.

"It won't be so bad Harry. I mean, how bad could it really be?" Ginny asked, nervously pouring herself more wine. "Maybe they'll choose the five girls already, and we won't have to bother."

Outside of the fact that they simply couldn't, that Ginny was even accepting to joke about something that important was absurd. The tension was really high.

Thankfully they didn't have to wait any longer, as Hermione flew in, holding a small pile of files inside a folder. The files.

She didn't look surprised by the welcoming committee, she just grabbed a glass and poured herself some wine. Which either meant she was so calm with the decisions she didn't feel the need to stay sober or that they were so troubling that staying sober wasn't an option.

"Good evening, my impatient lovers," She joked lightly before kissing them.

"Please tell me there aren't any weird ones," Ginny begged, not willing to wait a minute longer. Only to reconsider a second later. "Actually, I can deal with weird. Just not insane, like Bellatrix insane."

"It's best if you just see them for yourselves," Hermione said, sitting down and handing the files over to Harry.

"You didn't pick fifteen." It wasn't a question; he had already known. The pile was too small.

"There are twelve files," She answered the unasked question. "Blaise is even more selective than I am. One would think he was selecting the girls for himself."

"Is that a good or a bad sign?" Ginny asked, looking directly at the black folder.

"Just open, please," Hermione pleaded gently.

Harry grabbed the files very seriously, his whole posture completely unlike it had been only seconds before. It was not very often he showed, but the war left a huge mark on him, and that posture — which made him look ready for a battle — was a part of that mark.

He sat down and read them all without a single facial expression. It was obvious that he was reading them extremely carefully, 'cause he was taking twice as long as he normally would.

When he finished the last line of the last page, Harry closed the folder and put it on the table before turning to Hermione and asking, in a tone that clearly showed he was two seconds away from exploding.

"Carrow, Hermione? Dolohov?" He clenched his fists strongly. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

She knew it would not do to be anything other than serious in that moment. He needed answers, and she was more than ready to give them.

"Yes, Flora and Vasilisa," She said, stressing their names. "They are not their fathers, Harry, and you should know that. Both of them made it abundantly clear that they don't share the same beliefs as Alecto and Antonin."

She took a deep breath before looking at Ginny — who had been reading the files quietly.

"Flora expressed her wish to apologize to you, Ginny," Hermione said.

For a moment it looked like she might scream or hit someone, but she quickly changed her demeanor. So fast indeed, that one might have missed it if they hadn't been looking so closely.

"Ok, I could do with an apology." She admitted. "But why choose her?"

"Hermione got wet when Miss Carrow said she owned a rare potion bookstore," Blaise answered, coming out of the fireplace seconds before Neville.

"You didn't?" Ginny sounded terribly amused by that.

"No," She defended herself. "That wasn't why we chose her."

"So you don't deny that you were wet?" Blaise pointed out.

"I tend to ignore most of what comes out of your disgusting mouth Zabini," Hermione replied, cuttingly.

"You wound me," He mocked, sarcastically.

"I'm still expecting an explanation, you know?" Harry called out, looking a little bit more relaxed.

"She's smart, beautiful and mysterious enough to make Hermione interessed," Neville finally spoke something. "We chose not to let her last name interfere with our evaluation."

"That's not to say we didn't make her very aware of how her last name might make her not be as well perceived as the others contestants," Blaise explained, in a euphemism of his rude accusations.

"I imagine she was already aware of that," Harry mused. "Not everybody in the wizarding world is so forgiving."

"Yes, Vasilisa seemed ready for some kind of battle," Neville spoke of his assumptions rarely, so Hermione was surprised by that statement.

"I can't believe you would marry a Dolohov, Hermione," Harry half-accused, half-questioned her. "Would you ever get naked in front of her?"

The mention of her scars was a cheap shot, but an appropriate one nevertheless. It had taken her a long time to stop being self-conscious about the long scars marking the left side of her chest. Would she ever stand to have a Dolohov seeing them, even if she was the wrong one?

"I don't know Harry," She answered honestly. "Maybe not. However, I have a feeling that you'll like her and that was enough to make me consider trying."

He got up and hugged her before she even finished talking. "Forgive me, my love," He said, kissing the top of her head.

She didn't say anything, just hugged him tighter.

"Are you not going to comment on the Quidditch players Ginevra?" Blaise interrupted, like the idiot he was. "I'm disappointed."

Ginny frowned horribly when Zabini spoke her birth name, but didn't say anything. She settled the folder on the table like Harry had minutes before and crossed her arms.

"Kate and Demelza are from other teams," She stated. "Who would you cheer for if we had a match against each other?"

Ginny was clearly directing the question to Harry, the only one of them who had any interest in Quidditch.

"I would cheer for me not to have a heart attack every time one of you got hit." He answered, very diplomatically.

"You almost died a hundred times," Ginny dismissed. "We'll be okay. Answer the question."

"I told you another Quidditch player in the house wouldn't be healthy!" Hermione told Neville. "I'll kill them both before the end of the year. We should just forget them."

"What?" Blaise protested. "But they are so fucking hot. No way I'm letting you exclude Miss D cups."

"Really, D's?" Ginny asked, suddenly interested.

"At least," He confirmed.

"We're keeping her," She decided, in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"Are you serious?" Hermione questioned, putting her hands on her hips. "Is that how we're deciding things?"

"Honestly, Hermione," Harry contested. "You don't find true beauty everywhere. One has to seize the opportunities life gives."

Neville was laughing quietly on the sofa, clearly finding the whole situating incredibly amusing.

"The guy has a point, Hermione, you have to admit." He shrugged. "Although I will say Katie is way hotter than Demelza."

"You are a disgrace to mankind," Blaise declared, looking like Neville had just cursed his very existence.

............................................................

Hermione could see on Harry's face the moment he remembered the rest of the contestants. And she knew exactly with whom he would have a problem.

"Did I see Gabrielle? Hermione, she's underage! What the fuck?" It was obvious he couldn't believe Hermione would pick someone so young. "Fleur will murder me."

"Doesn't she live in France?" Ginny seemed perplexed by this.

"What? That's what is bothering you? Where she lives?" He stared at her like she was insane.

"Calm down Harry; she isn't as young as you think she is," Hermione explained, clearly knowing he would react like that. "She's sixteen, soon to be seventeen. I know it's not who we would ideally choose, but she mentioned that she was experiencing some mating feelings and I thought it would be beyond cruel to deny her the possibility of finding out what they were."

"Mating?" He asked. "Isn't she just a quarter Veela? I thought you said they weren't supposed to sense their mates."

Hermione smiled at that, very pleased with his comment. She knew that sometimes she spoke too much about her job, and her partners tended to tune her out after some time, but it was nice to know not all was being ignored.

"She is, and they aren't. That's why the situating is so perplexing," Hermione admitted. "But I'd recognize that face anywhere. She's sensing her mate."

"I don't know how to feel about that," Ginny frowned. "She's just so young... I'm not sure I'll feel comfortable with her, sexually speaking."

"Well, if it makes it any better, she does not look like a sixteen years old girl, at all," Hermione comforted. "But, still... I understand. I'm not sure either."

"And Krum's sister?" Harry joked. "Is she filling the spot her brother couldn't occupy?"

Hermione should have responded with a witty answer that would make them all laugh, but the thought of Viktor's sister made her entire face get warm immediately, in an embarrassing display of mortification.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about her response.

"Is she that hot?" Harry grabbed the files and looked intensely at Lisa's picture.

"Ah, of course," Ginny pointed out. "I forgot how blond Viktor's hair was."

"She does have exquisite hair," Harry agreed.

"Wait, what?" Hermione finally snapped out of her trance.

"Please Hermione, who doesn't know about your obsession with blond hair?" Ginny snorted.

"I thought no one knew, actually," She answered, unsure of how to proceed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes!" They answered synchronized, both looking unreasonably amused.

Hermione blushed again and shoved her head in her hand. How embarrassing was that?

..............................................................

"We have to talk about Daphne," Blaise said darkly, looking serious for the first time that day.

"Is she hurt?" Harry responded, equally serious. He always jumped to the worst possibility possible, and it wasn't difficult to figure out why.

"Yes, in a way she is..." Hermione knew how delicate Daphne's situation was. "Harry, please stay calm... To sum things up, she was in an abusive relationship."

"What?" He was shaking lightly. "Who?"

"She won't give me the fucking name," Blaise spat the words out. "But I'll find out; it's only a matter of time."

"Great, I'll help," He stated, not kidding in the slightest. "Is that why she wants to marry me? 'Cause it's not needed, at all. I'll be glad to help her in any way she needs, without any contract."

"That's not all, is it?" Ginny finally said something, guessing correctly that Daphne wouldn't marry Harry just to protect herself.

She looked like she'd seen a ghost; pale and with a disoriented look on her face.

"No, unfortunately, that's not even the worst part," Neville supplied. "She found out she's pregnant."

The words dropped like a bomb. Ginny gasped, and Harry jumped out of the couch at the exact same time. They both knew how the wizarding world worked when it came to paternity. Daphne would lose all rights to her child if the father found out, no questions asked.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed, running his hands through his hair almost compulsively. "Well, that changes everything."

"Harry, you need to help her," Ginny surprised Hermione by sounding so decisive. She knew the youngest Weasley wasn't thrilled about sharing Harry. "Nobody else's name will do."

"I'd help her myself if I could," Blaise sounded angry and defeated at the same time. "But my name would never be enough."

And Hermione knew he was right. Unfortunately, no matter how wealthy Zabini was or how ancient his bloodline could be, if Daphne abuser found out the baby was his she would have no choice but to hand him/her over. Only someone with great influence could dispute his claim, someone like Harry. Zabini's name was tainted after the war; Harry's wasn't.

And, even though Hermione didn't know anything about Daphne, she couldn't let her suffer through that. If it were within' their possibilities to help her, Hermione would do all she could.

"I agree," She proclaimed. "We must assist her, Harry. No women should have to go through what she did."

"Of course," Harry promptly answered. "But we'll have to move very quickly for this to work. How far along is she?"

"We're lucky on that front," Neville said. "She found out very early, with five weeks. She thought quickly and took a pregnancy stasis potion."

Seeing Harry's confused face, Hermione explained:

"It interrupts the pregnancy for as long as the person takes it. However, it is a very dangerous potion," She continued. "In fact, it's forbidden in most countries because of the possibility of line theft."

"Daphne probably spent a fortune on it," Ginny interjected.

"Yes, it's extremely expensive exactly because it's illegal and dangerous," Hermione conceded. "However, it only works for about a month, after that she'll have to take another dose. But it's too risky for her to take more than two doses, she could very well lose her baby if she overdosed."

"I'll make and administer the second dose myself," Blaise took over. "But Hermione is right, after that, it will be too threatening. You both need to convince the public that you are soul mates at first glance."

Harry suddenly grimaced horribly, and it wasn't difficult to understand why. He was an absolute disaster at romance and an even worst actor. This went against every instinct he had.

"Please," Neville broke the tension, all of the sudden." Everybody knows I'm Harry's soul mate." He added a ridiculous kissy face to the scene.

"I'll be sure to tell Susan that," Ginny commented, not amused.

"She won't mind," He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide a smile.

"Are you kidding me?" Blaise pointed out. "She's full of pregnancy hormones! Yesterday she threw a vase at me."

"You said she was eating too much, Blaise," Hermione said. "Be happy she didn't curse you."

"Well, she was," He responded. "Three slices of cake is too much Hermione; I can't lie."

Hermione wondered what she had done in her past life to deserve this punishment that was Zabini.

..........................................................

"I can't believe Luna is back," Harry exclaimed, clearly surprised with the news. "I know I shouldn't be surprised by anything else coming from her, but I'm shocked that she decided to send her file."

"I know," Hermione agreed. "I could barely believe when she walked into the room. I thought the file was some sort of joke."

"Gosh, I miss Luna," Ginny sighed. "You're all so terribly dull."

"Hey!" Neville protested, getting up and moving to the kitchen. "I'm super fun! I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Are you making lunch?" Blaise asked, getting up as well. "I'm starving."

"For the love of God Zabini," Hermione went after him. "Why can't you cook for yourself? Neville is not your house elf."

"Please, we all know Blaise couldn't fry an egg if his life depended on it." Ginny grabbed Harry and pushed him into the kitchen. "Harry said he wants to cook for us."

"I did not!" He said, outraged. "You lie!"

Neville just laughed, not one bit concerned. "I'm cooking; it's fine. Could someone call Susan, though? She'll be starving by now."

"When isn't she?" Blaise mumbled in the corner.

"Would you just shut up?" Hermione pleaded. "I'll go call her."

Hermione left the kitchen musing about Daphne, the contestants, and the whole Announcement. She had a feeling troubled waters were ahead of them, but couldn't pinpoint why.

Well, nobody ever said dating Harry Potter would be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is. I know some of the girls weren't mentioned, but they will be in the next chapter, don't worry.
> 
> Please vote for the girls you guys want to be chosen. I'm excited to hear from you all.


	10. The First Meeting, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello humans! I come bringing a new chapter with me, how awfully nice is that? I hope you all love it.
> 
> For those of you who haven't already voted, I want to announce that there is a poll opened for everybody to vote on whom they want on Harry's future family. The most voted girl will be in it for sure, but I won't reveal who that is until the time when she is chosen. Otherwise, it would ruin the fun. So please vote!
> 
> Lovely individuals who review my story, you are amazing and deserving of all the finer things in life.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter's universe, I'm only playing with it.

It was way too early in the day for any decent human being to be awake on a Sunday, that's for sure. The sun wasn't anywhere to be seen, and if one looked closely enough, the stars could still be seen in the sky. However, Harry was wide awake, despite the fact that he hadn't gotten any wink of sleep the entire night. Sleep evaded, he had no other option but to over analyze every single detail of what was to happen later on. The day had finally come when he would face all twelve girls that had been picked to, possibly, be a part of his family. A million thoughts crossed his mind, the next always a little darker than the previous.

Hermione suddenly tightened her hold of him and laid her head on the crook of his neck, pulling him out of his thoughts. Both she and Ginny were sound asleep, resting like he was supposed to. They were currently occupying the majority of their huge bed, squeezing him in middle and hogging all the three bed-sheets they had for that exact reason. It wasn't like he minded, not at all. After eleven years of sleeping in a cupboard all by himself in a tiny bed, sharing his amazing bed with the two people he loved the most seemed like heaven.

He reached forward and ran his hand through Ginny's messy hair, taking it out of her face carefully. This was what he was most afraid of losing, the peace they had in their lives, conquered with no small amount of hard work. Having a polyamorous relationship hadn't been easy at first, it still wasn't easy sometimes. Hermione's parents had the most difficult time coming to terms with their only daughter lifestyle. How were they going to explain that five other girls were about to join them when it sounded crazy even in his own mind?

"Stop thinking so hard; you're disturbing my sleep," Hermione grumbled from his right, not even bothering with opening her eyes.

"You're not one to talk about overthinking, honey," He softly replied, not wanting to wake Ginny up.

"Well, then if I'm sleeping normally in this situation and you're not it should be an indication of how much you're blowing this out of proportion, Harry Potter," She stated, kissing his neck and squeezing his waist.

"I'm not," He contested, kissing the top of her head back. "I have no idea how you both are taking this all so well, honestly. I thought you, at least, would be going insane in the face of all the possible ways this could go wrong."

At that, Hermione apparently gave up sleep and opened her eyes, stretching her legs and laying on her pillow again, next to him.

"I am, Harry. You know I am," She reassured. "But I'm choosing to think positively about it for now. We're not yet in the part where they start integrating into our relationship; we are just talking to them and getting to know their personalities. Maybe when they start to touch you or Ginny, it will drive me insane, but for now, I'm content with having our bed only to ourselves."

He looked at her, adoringly. "It will never stop amazing me how I manage to land an incredible girl like you."

"Please, you did not land me," She snorted, raising an eyebrow. "If anything Ginny was the one who made all of this work."

"She was not!" He denied, indignantly. "I so made you both fall hopelessly in love with me and beg for my attention."

"You did not," Ginny stated, apparently not being able to sleep through their conversation.

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Please Harry, stop lying to yourself," Ginny muttered back, not moving from where she was, which was basically on top of him.

"You're both ridiculous," Hermione affirmed, not looking impressed.

"You love it," They both answered at the same time, smiling at each other while they did it.

"Maybe a little," She conceded, not managing to keep a straight face. "It will truly suck to share you both, you know?"

"We'll always love you, Hermione," Ginny comforted, opening her eyes and reaching to hold her hand. "No matter what happens we'll always have each other, never forget that."

Harry could see Hermione's eyes watering a bit, though she tried to contain it, and it broke his heart. No amount of money and titles were worth a single tear of hers.

"Hermione..." He breathed out forcefully, bringing her close and hugging her.

"I'm fine, really," She protested. "I'm just emotional, that's all. I wish I weren't so jealous of you."

"Well, I, for one, am glad you are," Ginny spoke, poking him in the ribs. "Is nice to have at least one person who shows some possessiveness around here."

"I'm possessive. Too possessive sometimes, and you know it," He corrected, poking her back. "And I can get jealous; it's just not often."

"Come on, Harry, you're the least jealous person to walk the face of the earth!" She denied, looking incredulous at his blatant lie. "I'm yet to see you get jealous of anyone, ever."

He shrugged, giving up on that battle before it even began. "Maybe I'm just a free soul."

Hermione laughed at that, snuggling further. "Okay, Gandhi."

"Who?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

"Nevermind," Harry said, kissing her softly. "Is that you telling me you want me to get jealous?"

"Hell no," She replied. "Hermione is more than enough for me."

"I'm not that bad," She pouted, not convincing anyone.

"Yes, you are," They both answered simultaneously, grinning when she frowned at them.

"I hate you both," She declared, getting up and entering the bathroom.

"We can't have that, can we?" Harry stated, smiling at Ginny and getting up. "Perhaps we should go after her and make her love us once more?"

"Who am I to say no to some shower sex?" She replied, getting up too and jumping on his back. "Carry me, slave. I have a hot girlfriend waiting for me."

So he did what any strong, Alfa male would do in that situation. He complied and carried her to the shower on his back.

One finds oneself doing a vast plethora of things to get laid.

......................................................

When they arrived, Blaise's living room was already skillfully decorated, and the bar fully stocked. A bar with a single person sitting on a chair, the true owner of the Manor, Pansy Zabini.

"Drinkin' already, bitch?" Ginny greeted, skipping the pleasantries, sitting on the seat beside her and grabbing the whiskey bottle.

"Fuck yes!" She answered, charming as ever. "One cannot stand social events sober; it's impossible."

"Please, you love these fancy gatherings. You live for it," Hermione corrected, picking a bottle of champagne and opening it with a wave of hands. Show off. "Me on the other hand..."

"Yeah, why did this have to be such a dress up night?" Harry asked, tugging the collar of his social shirt. "I hate wearing a suit. Couldn't we have done a simple dinner?"

"Has Pansy ever done something simple?" Blaise questioned, walking down the stairs in a flawless gray robe, holding a glass of his own.

Harry was going to be the only one sober at the end of the night, he could tell.

"If you are going to do something, better do it right," Pansy repeated the sentence they had all heard her saying, at least, a thousand times before. She did it while examining Blaise for any possible flaw. Merlin forbids her husband to be seen in any state other than perfect.

"Don't I look gorgeous?" He bragged, pointing at Harry. "Much nicer than the muggle here."

"Oh, fuck you Zabini, I look amazing," He argued.

"You'll do," Pansy shrugged, not looking impressed with Blaise's charm.

"What?" The Slytherin challenged, shocked. "I don't know why I married you."

"Because you're awfully gay and in need of heirs." She didn't even blink."Also 'cause I'm amazing and the best catch you'd ever get."

"I want to have babies with you?" Blaise wondered, sounding very confused. "That doesn't seem right."

"The true wonder is why Oliver wants to be a part of this," Hermione mentioned, gesturing to the space between the couple.

"I give great head," Blaise proclaimed, making Hermione choke on her drink.

"Ugh, too much information Zabini," The golden girl spoke. "Way too much."

"Try sleeping in the room next to theirs," Pansy complained. "Is like they don't know silencing spells."

"We get caught up in the moment," He explained, unaffected.

"They really do," Ginny confirmed. "Remember the time we caught them on our couch on Christmas's eve?"

"Vividly," Harry answered, moving to sit next to Ginny and hug her from behind, enjoying the way she immediately leaned back and squeezed his leg. "Is he coming tonight?"

"Why would he expose himself to your horrible love life drama?" The Zabini Lord questioned, filling Pansy's glass and moving to retrieve more ice.

"I don't know," He admitted. "I don't even know why I'm here..."

"Yes, being sought after by all these girls is going to be a huge problem for you, Potter." The Lady of the house mocked.

"He just suffers too much," Hermione agreed, rolling her eyes. "Now, let's get to it. Do you have new stuff for me?"

"In fact, I do," Pansy got up, grinning in a way he had only ever seen her muster when the subject was their obsession.

Hermione jumped from her chair, barely containing her excitement, before following the Slytherin up the stairs without a look back.

"I believe we have been replaced by shoes, my love," Harry told Ginny, not surprised.

"Yes, it seems we have," The ginger in his arms agreed. "Poker?" She suggested to the boys.

"You're perfect," He stated.

"Don't compliment her too much, Potter," Blaise whined, moving to the game room. "She's annoying enough as it is."

.......................................................

Daphne was living at the Manor, so it was no wonder that she was the first one of the girls he saw. The so-called Ice Queen was walking down the stairs, with an incredible amount of poise, looking every bit as unapproachable as she was rumored to be.

"Lord Potter, Miss Weasley, good evening," She greeted, bowing in a flawless manner.

Harry bowed back, trying not to grimace as he did. Pureblood rules were something he could do without. "No need for the Lord crap, okay? Just call me Harry."

Ginny elbowed him before adding: "Good evening Miss Greengrass, is lovely to meet you finally."

"It's great and shit, let's get to business," Blaise interrupted, rude as ever.

"Yes," Daphne agreed, sitting in front of them. "I believe my situation has already been explained."

"It has," Hermione answered, walking into the room alongside Pansy and sitting next to Harry.

If the sudden arrival disturbed Greengrass, she didn't allow it to show on her face, merely nodding her head in acknowledgment of their presence.

"Perfect," She continued. "That means questions must be asked. Fire away."

Harry didn't waste the opportunity: "You do realize that blood adoption isn't exactly legal, right?"

"I could care less about the law, Harry," _The way she wrapped her mouth around his name should be illegal,_ he thought, trying not to lose focus. Slytherins weren't above seducing someone to get what they wanted. "I want my child to be protected, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes for it."

"Do you not care that it puts us at risk too?" He pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Harry knew for a fact that she did not give a shit about the danger they would be put in, but he wanted to see if she had the courage to admit it.

"No, I do not." She didn't stutter; she didn't beat around the bush. Slytherin to the core.

"Has the father tried to contact you?" Hermione asked, biting her lips in a very distracting manner. Was she concerned about something?

"No," Daphne shook her head. "And I don't believe he will. I was nothing to him other than a convenient body, and I doubt he'll have trouble finding another."

"Just give me a name, Daph. I just need a name," Blaise hissed, frowning darkly.

Seeing she had no intentions of answering or even acknowledging Blaise's plead, Ginny decided to move on: "Are you not the Greengrass heir?"

"I am, which is a bit of a problem," She agreed, crossing her elegant legs. "I only need one heir for my family, though. There are quite a few relatives of mine in Belgium, so we aren't at risk of becoming extinct. All your houses are, however, dying names, which will require at least two heirs. That means no less than three children."

"I don't have a problem with that," Harry assured. "But are you willing to bear them?"

"Absolutely," Daphne confirmed. "Although I'm certain a contract will be necessary."

"Yes," Hermione conceded. "While we believe in your good intentions, there's just too much at stake here to just wing it. After all, we are breaking the law for this. The contract will protect you too."

"I can ask Draco to write it," Blaise suggested. "But I need to know the conditions."

"I will blood adopt the child as soon as it's born and I'll extend all the protection my name can afford to both of them," Harry stated, looking deadly serious. "As long as you agree to marry me, take on one of my names and bear the children it will require. But bear something in mind before accepting it Miss Greengrass, I don't make promises lightly. Are you willing to be my wife, with all that it entails?"

"I wouldn't have approached you if I wasn't one hundred percent sure of my decision," She professed. "Will you father the Greengrass heir?"

"Of course," He agreed, reaching for a cigarette in his pocket and lighting it before inhaling deeply. Some situations just called for a smoke.

She relaxed and leaned back in her chair. "I can agree to those terms."

"I believe it covers the most important points," Hermione was already going through the others points in her head, Harry knew. "I'll visit Draco myself and explain it; I want to participate in the process."

"Wait," Ginny interrupted, sipping her drink before continuing. "I want a fidelity clause added to it."

"What?" Daphne's tone could freeze hell twice over.

"You heard me," The future Lady Potter wasn't backing down. "I know you're not doing this out of affection for Harry, and I understand, but I won't have his name dirtied by a wife who parades on the arms of somebody else."

"You insult me, Weasley," She replied. "I wouldn't degrade myself by cheating on my own husband, that you would even dare to suggest it... Add the fidelity clause for all I care; it's pointless."

"You must appreciate our position, Miss Greengrass," Hermione tried to placate the Ice Queen. "While we are very public and well-known persons, we know nothing about you other than what we saw at Hogwarts. You can't expect us to trust you so quickly."

"I don't," She explained, not showing a single expression on her face. "No Slytherin worth her salt would."

Merlin, if that was the beginning of the party, Harry already wished for it to be over.

...................................................................

The next person to arrive made Harry reconsider his previous thought. Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad, after all.

"Oh Harry, how wonderful! You haven't got a single Nargle," She exclaimed, jumping into his arms...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Don't keep me hanging, tell me what you think about it right now!
> 
> Next chapter will finally show everybody together and interacting. I'm super excited.


	11. The First Meeting, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spoiling you guys, seriously. Don't get used to it, though, inspiration just came extra fast and at a convenient time — which is uncommon when the subject is inspiration.
> 
> Don't forget there's a poll open in my profile for you all to vote for the girls you want Harry to choose. So vote, right now. Do it!
> 
> Thank you all for the incredible response this story is getting, I couldn't be more grateful even if I wanted to. I'm overwhelmed by the kind words I read at every new chapter, and honestly, they make my days.
> 
> Disclaimer: Another day has passed, and Harry Potter is still not mine. Not even a single piece of it. There's something wrong with the world.

Fresh wood.

Luna always smelled like freshly chopped wood, and it never failed to make Harry feel somewhat calmer. It wasn't a perfume or anything, it was just Luna's smell, and it was incredible.

"I should've known better than to leave you here alone, Harry Potter," She scolded, hitting his arm and stepping out of his embrace. "Couldn't you have waited until I came back? I had to cut my trip short, you know?"

"Forgive me," He bowed and kissed her hand softly. "If I could have postponed my birthday for you, I would have. Alas, such feats are outside of my scope of abilities."

"Well, you'll just have to make it up to me, ain't that right?" She smiled, amusement shining brightly in her eyes. "A drink would be a good start."

"As you wish," Harry assured, guiding her to the bar.

Not a second too late, because Ginny was already up and walking in their direction. Waiting had never been one of her strengths, to be quite fair.

"Thank Merlin; you're here. Please never leave again, everything is so terribly boring without you around," The read-head pouted, crossing her arms.

"I did bring you a gift," The Ravenclaw bribed, grinning and looking quite smug. It wasn't difficult to guess why. After all, no one loved presents more than Ginny, and she never bothered to hide this fact either.

"What are we waiting? Give it to me!" She demanded, stretching out her arms.

Luna pulled a box from inside her cloak and handed it without anymore incentive. More than a little curious, Harry leaned forward to see from over one of Ginny's shoulder. It was a red box, nothing overly special about it — no labels or brands.

Ginny opened and immediately gasped: "You didn't!"

Nestled in the velvet interior of the box was an exquisite necklace — like nothing he had ever seen before. The design alone would've been more than enough to make it priceless, but what attracted the most attention was the fact that it was made from dragon's scales. Smaller black pieces on either side of it became increasingly bigger until they converged on a huge one right in the middle — a fist-size red scale, shimmering away.

"Promises are important, Ginevra," Luna lectured, trying to hide her pleasure.

It was a testament to the neckless otherworldly beauty that the girl in question didn't even protest against the use of her full name. She just stared, lost in the content of the box she held.

"Can someone explain what's happening here?" Hermione inquired, apparently tired of waiting for them.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna greeted. "I wouldn't mind explaining, of course. In our first year at Hogwarts — before either one of us managed to make new acquaintances — Ginny and I spent a lot of time together. I'm not complaining, it was lovely, but it became a little dull sometimes, so I started telling her stories I grew up listening to."

"My favorite was one of a princess and a prince, who fought against a dragon together to live happily ever after," Ginny added, finally regaining her speaking abilities. "I was a romantic at the time, and it seemed like a perfect love story. In the end, after the dragon was killed, the prince made his princess a neckless of the dragon's scales to represent their love and their willingness to fight for it."

"Luna would always defend the dragon, and it's natural beauty," She continued, caressing the present in her hands. "I often lost track of time hearing her describe the colors and shapes she imagined dragons and their scales could be. It was magical to me. So I made her promise that, if she ever found one as she planned to, she'd make me a neckless with its scales. I had completely forgotten about it, though..."

"They were giving to me willingly; I must inform," Luna said. "One shouldn't harm such amazing creatures, no even for a beautiful piece of jewelry like this one."

"It is beautiful," Hermione agreed, amazed at the details it held.

"Will you put it on me?" Ginny asked, holding out the box in front of the happy blond.

Luna laid the neckless on Ginny collarbone with an impressive tenderness, fastening it and whispering something in Ginny's ear. Whatever she said made Harry's girlfriend eyes immediately start to water, which wasn't an easy thing to accomplish.

"So, how do I look?" She murmured, looking surprisingly demure.

Harry didn't know what to say. If the scales looked impressive on the box, hanging from Ginny's neck, they looked stunning. There were just no words for it, truly.

"You have never looked more perfect," He settled for the truth, no matter how underwhelming it may have sounded.

"Yes, I have to agree," Hermione said, hugging her from behind and kissing her cheek.

Harry crossed eyes with Luna and tried to transmit his appreciation for her return to their lives — at the same time hiding all other emotions he felt at the moment. Some subjects weren't party-appropriate... Somehow he had the feeling she understood it perfectly.

................................................

Harry was walking towards the bathroom when he saw her.

The minute he did it became visible why Hermione was so attracted. Lisa Krum wasn't someone who could walk unnoticed in a room, not even a room full of gorgeous girls as that one. It wasn't all about her looks, in fact, Harry could think of at least two other girls present who outshined her when it came to pure attractiveness. Her appeal came from something else entirely; maybe it was the way she flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder — almost as an afterthought — or the regal way in which she carried herself, as though she was accustomed to being heard.

And yet... She spoke with Susan animatedly, despite having never met her before. And she didn't look uncomfortable or politely distant either, Lisa Krum was gesturing and speaking in a fast manner about something. From the constant looks she gave to Susan's belly, he would guess it was a pregnancy talk. Which was also weird, to be honest. Susan wasn't one to trust easily, and she didn't want the pregnancy to be public yet. So, why was she trusting Krum? And why was Neville sitting beside Susan, in silence, looking quite content?

He saw Hermione approaching them, handing the blond a glass of champagne before sitting at their table and joining the conversation very smoothly.

Why did she have to be so comfortable?

_Fuck._

There was no denying it, Lisa Krum called his attention, and Harry wasn't sure if that was something he appreciated or not.

....................................................

After roaming around the room for a little while, Harry finally settled on sitting at a big table alongside Blaise — at least the fucker was funny. It absolutely wasn't because he was avoiding Ginny and her demands for a dance, of course not.

Apparently, he arrived in the middle of a heated conversation.

"Not Arsenius Jigger's book?" Blaise demanded, looking quite desperate.

"The one and only," Flora Carrow assured, smiling proudly.

"Do you have any idea how much that book is worth?" Blaise questioned, in a very non-Slytherin kind of bluntness.

"I do," She answered. "I own a bookshop Lord Zabini, is my job to know these things. The day I found that book I almost couldn't believe my own luck, trust me. It is priceless. But, perhaps, I could be convinced to let you take a look at it someday."

"I'll be sure to convince you, have no doubts about it."

Maybe that had been the wrong table to sit at, Harry thought. Flora Carrow was innocent of her father's mistakes, he knew, but it was impossible to look at her and not picture all the pain Amycus Carrow inflicted upon Ginny. That he was forced to live every day knowing he hadn't protected the woman he loved was bad enough, but to stare at Carrow directly in the face and see her father eyes was a whole new kind of torture.

"Must we spend our entire evening talking about your unhealthy obsession with potions, Blaise?" Tracy Davis interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I see you haven't changed."

"Really, was he always this interested in potions?" Harry questioned, happy to be pulled out from this thoughts.

"Interested is putting it lightly," Tracy confirmed, rolling her eyes at Blaise's protest. "Please, admit it! You chased after Professor Snape like a dog in heat."

"I did not!" He denied, affronted. "You take that back!"

"I won't," She insisted, pursuing her lips. "You would read potion texts from the moment you woke up to the second you went to sleep. And there's no shame in that, Blaise, you got your masters at an impressive age."

"I'm not ashamed, don't flatter yourself," He denied, shaking his head lightly. "I'm merely disputing your preposterous statement that I chased after Severus like a dog in heat. The nerve of you!"

"Yeah, I'm lying," Tracy scoffed, rolling her eyes and shrugging.

"Maybe Blaise had a schoolboy crush on Severus," Luna mused out loud, grinning widely. "And what better way to impress him than with potion questions?"

"Oh, I can see that," Carrow agreed. "I might have heard something about this in our common room before."

As she spoke, Harry mentally slapped himself for agreeing with Hermione that she did, in fact, have the most soothing voice ever.

"Fuck you, Carrow," Blaise deadpanned, not amused.

"No need to get flustered Blaise, we all understand you. No one is judging," Luna reassured, patting Blaise's shoulder in a very patronizing way.

"And no one can deny Snape was a smooth motherfucker," Fay Dunbar added, wiggling her eyebrows. It was weird to witness an unspeakable showing that many emotions at once.

"What? Surely you jest?" Harry questioned, not believing his ears. "Snape?"

"Of course," Pansy agreed, rolling her eyes at him. "Stop being so boringly naive Poty. Severus had a killer voice — he started speaking, and panties started dropping."

"I could have lived without that information," Blaise stated, looking a little put out. "I just can't see the appeal. Although I did know that a lot of girls had a crush on him, at some point."

"Am I the only one who thought he was hated by all?" Harry insisted, not ready to give up.

"Yes!" Pansy and Fay chorused.

"No," Luna protested, coming to his defense. "I found his aura to be very depressing."

"Well," Harry celebrated, crossing his arms. "At least one woman is sane here."

"Yes, I would've cleaned that aura alright," Pansy voice was filthy dirty.

"How classy of you, my love." Blaise mocked, throwing his arms around her shoulder.

"Always," She agreed, smiling at Blaise and looking a lot more proud than the situation probably called for.

................................................

If Hermione saw him she would have a lot to say; he had no doubts. But she was not there, thankfully. In fact, he was alone, something for which he was quite grateful. A few moments by himself was all he needed.

The party was a success, no one could deny. The food was incredible, the drinks were cold, and the music was pleasant. So why wasn't he having fun? Why was he alone in the garden, smoking his third cigarette and already reaching for a fourth?

Maybe it had something to do with how easy it appeared to be for everyone else to mingle with unknown people — a skill he never possessed. Making new acquaintances was a painful process for Harry — it had always been — and, during the war, it became even harder. It was simpler to trust nobody. He already had all the friends he needed, why be greedy?

This was a terrible idea, Harry thought, taking his jacket off and loosening his tie. He didn't need a fucking third wife or a fourth... Who was going to force him?

"As if there was somebody who could," He whispered to himself, feeling the weight of the elder wand in his pocket.

"Surely talking to yourself isn't healthy?" A voice cut through his dark musings.

Vasilisa Dolohov. Single heir of her father's fortune and a strong political voice in southern Russia. Why was she there?

"I never claimed to be healthy," He responded, not in the mood for mind games. Couldn't she realize he didn't want company?

"Do you mind?" She asked, mentioning to the cigarette in her hand.

He shrugged, not caring about what she did. Is not like he was going to forbid the woman from doing something.

She lit the cigarette and sat on a bench in front of him, not paying him any mind. Dolohov closed her eyes and sighed, apparently content with the cold wind. Had she come here to mock him with her contentedness? Well, fuck her.

He was about to open his mouth to curse her, or to simply tell her to leave when she spoke: "Don't you find these social meetings horrid?"

Shock kept him from answering for a few seconds.

"Horrid? You want me to believe a politician finds public gatherings horrid?" He questioned, incredulous.

"Yes, I do," She nodded, exhaling smoke languidly. "This is nothing like a political meeting, Lord Potter, you would know. This, here, is all about pleasantries and fake politeness, both of which I don't particularly appreciate."

"Why did you come then?" He pressed, knowing he was being rude.

"Why did you?" She challenged, with knowing eyes.

Fuck you; he wanted to say. But, for some reason, he didn't.

Dolohov suddenly took off the coat she had been wearing all night, revealing a deep purple dress underneath it, and he almost choked. Perhaps she was a bitch, but a very hot bitch nonetheless.

"Will you not be cold?" He asked, hoping she would cover herself up again.

"I'm Russian," She stated, as though it explained everything. And he supposed it did, autumn in England must be the equivalent of summer in Russia.

"Why are you here?" He questioned again, knowing she would understand he wasn't asking about the party.

"No one should smoke alone," She answered, looking him in the eyes. She didn't smile, but Harry had the impression she wasn't someone who laughed with ease.

He nodded, accepting the answer and lighting his next cigarette. That he could understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get interesting, right? I'm super pumped-up for the next chapters. If you guys think the chosen girls are already obvious and predictable, you've been sorely misled. That's all I have to say about it.


	12. Breakfast Opinions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, guys. New chapter!
> 
> Don't forget to tell me in the reviews what you all thought about it. I'll be waiting to hear from you.
> 
> There's still time to vote on the poll, so hurry up! Don't forget that the most voted girl will have a guaranteed spot.
> 
> I'm amazed at the response this story is getting, truly. I can not thank you all enough for all the kind words I have been receiving. You're amazing, guys.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of Harry Potter. Not today.

"I can't believe Gabrielle didn't even bother to show up," Hermione complained, flipping a pancake and pouring more batter into the skillet. "She could've, at least, sent a letter explaining why she was no longer interested."

"Do you think something happened to her?" Harry asked, squeezing more oranges.

"Fleur would have warned us if that was the case," Ginny said, grabbing plates and cutlery. "Gabrielle's very young, perhaps she was just excited about the novelty and, now that it's gone, she gave up."

"I know, but she sounded so sincere when she told me about the mating feelings she was experiencing!" Hermione exclaimed. "But no Veela would give up the opportunity of meeting its possible mate like she did. Perhaps she was just that good of a liar."

"Don't feel bad." Harry set the juice pitcher on the table, throwing the shells away. "You couldn't have known. She has been living with Veelas every day since she was born. Is not hard to imagine why she is this familiar with their mating habits."

"I don't like feeling fooled, that's all. Fleur is family, Gabrielle should've known better than to play with something as serious as this," Hermione said, flipping more pancakes. "Maybe we should write to her and ask for an explanation."

"Just leave it alone, Hermione," Ginny said. "It's best if we wait and see how she'll behave on this matter. Is not like it makes a huge difference in our lives. I'm not so sure I would've been okay with a girl so young, anyway."

"I gotta agree with Ginny, baby. She is terribly young," Harry pointed out, grabbing some strawberries to chop.

"I know, but who was I to deny a Veela the right to meet her possible mate?" Hermione disputed, carefully placing chocolate chips on top of the pancake batter.

Harry heard somebody landing on the living room floor seconds before Blaise and Pansy walked into the kitchen.

"I brought the vodka," Blaise announced proudly like he always did.

"I'll never understand why you guys have to drink the milkshake with vodka," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Well, milkshake without alcohol is barely a milkshake at all," Harry answered, grabbing the ice cream from the fridge.

"You clearly haven't been to McDonald's." She disputed.

"Why are we having breakfast so damn early?" Pansy complained, sitting in her usual chair and pouring herself some juice. "This isn't an honest time to be awake on a Sunday."

"We wanted to talk about yesterday, as soon as possible," Ginny explained, placing croissants on the table. "We're anxious."

"Where's Neville and his fatter half, then?" Pansy demanded.

"Good one," Blaise complimented, pouring an obscene amount of vodka into the blender.

"Not if Susan ever hears you," Ginny warned, grabbing four different kinds of jams. "I swear the pregnancy has made her that much more inclined to curse the first person she sees in the morning."

"Which is odd, considering that the baby is Neville's child. He's the most laid-back person I know," Harry interjected.

"Who said is Neville's?" Blaise scoffed, with his back turned, and so, unable to see Susan and Neville walking into the kitchen right in time to catch his question.

"Did you just imply I cheated on my husband?" Susan demanded, hands on her hips and frown already attached to her face.

Blaise froze, probably because he knew how precarious his situation was. Nobody sane wanted to get on the bad side of a pregnant witch.

"Of course not. I just implied that maybe you guys wanted the paternity to be a surprise?" He half asked, half affirmed.

It was a terrible save, very unconvincing under any circumstances, but apparently enough for Susan. She just nodded and sat on the table.

"Oh, croissants!" She dug in happily, spreading peach jam on it without a care.

"That's it?" Neville foolishly questioned. "You're going to accept that answer?"

"Why Neville, I'm a hungry woman," She responded, ignoring the snickers around her. "And I never did affirm the baby was yours. You just kind of assumed," She added, grinning smugly.

"What?" Neville walked forward and sat too. "Who is it then?"

"Who knows? I'm an adventurous woman," She replied, shrugging and making everyone laugh.

"See if I'm getting you more chocolate tonight," Neville threatened, mumbling something under his breath.

"Think of it that way Neville, maybe if the baby isn't yours, it will not have you weird face," Blaise said, very unhelpful. "Hogwarts years will be much easier."

"Fuck off." Neville hit him.

"Ok boys, cut it out," Hermione interrupted, placing the pancakes on the table and sitting next to Harry. "I want to know about yesterday. How did it go for everyone?"

"I have some interesting information to share," Pansy informed, leaning forward and looking ready to spill. "You guys know that Demelza is a half-blood, right? So, while we were talking, I found out that her parents are loaded. Apparently, her father — the muggle one — is the owner of a big electronic company and is filthy rich."

"So?" Hermione asked, frowning. "What difference does that make for us?"

"Think, Granger," Pansy snapped. "If her father is really such a big deal in the muggle world that might attract attention towards her marriage. Their gossiping world is huge, and the wizarding world can't afford that type of in-depth perusal. Especially in a weird situation such as this one."

"I hadn't considered that," Hermione admitted. "And it's true. I don't think we can deal with any more paparazzi than we already do."

"But it would be extremely unfair to not considerate her only because of her background," Ginny protested. "I talked to her for a relatively long time, and she seemed like an interesting person."

"Is it 'cause she's a Quidditch player?" Hermione asked, not impressed.

"Do you really think I'm that shallow?" She responded, equally as unimpressed. "For your information, we talked about travels we had in common."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you were shallow," Hermione apologized. "I'm just a little freaked out because I listened to Katie talking to Delmeza about Quidditch for an hour, non-stop!"

"They are players, my love. Of course, they'll want to talk about it with their peers," Harry comforted. "It doesn't mean that's all we'll ever talk about in our house."

"I guess," She conceded.

"How did it go with Flora, Ginny? I saw you two talking," Susan asked, curiosity shining.

"Better than I hoped," The read-head admitted, shrugging. "To be honest, I couldn't see Carrow in her, at all. She seemed like a decent human being and was very apologetic about what we suffered under her father's command. I never blamed her, but it was nice to get an apology nevertheless."

"She talked to me as well," Neville added. "It reminded me of so much I try to forget that, for a moment, I just wanted her to disappear. But, I agree, it was nice to receive some sort of apology. Even though it was never her fault."

"It was terrible seeing her, I have to admit," Harry said, looking at his glass of milkshake. "I couldn't stop associating her with her last name."

Ginny squeezed his hand and rubbed his leg, under the table. He knew she understood what he meant.

"I..." Hermione started, in a rare moment of lack of words. "I ran away from Vasilisa all night."

"Hermione..." Blaise spoke, in his own rare moment of tenderness.

"I know, it's stupid." She continued, not looking up. "I just felt my heart racing every time I saw her coming close. I don't blame her for what happened, not at all, but I just feel like running when she approaches me anyway."

"You don't have to talk to her if you don't want to, Hermione," Harry affirmed.

"I think the question is whether I'll be able to speak with her or not," She explained, rubbing her chest on the place where her scar lay.

"I got to say, Hermione, I'm surprised by that information. I didn't see you running at any time, all I saw was you and Viktor sister practically mooning over each other," Pansy admitted, smiling behind her teacup.

"Yes, I saw it too," Neville agreed, raising his eyebrow. "We were at the same table, and yet, somehow, I got the feeling we weren't having the same conversation."

"I was not mooning over Lisa Krum, that's absurd," Hermione defended herself. "She's just an interesting person, that's all. We spoke about the different legislation regarding the werewolves in Bulgaria and here in Britain. Lisa works at the Bulgarian Ministry."

"Lisa? You are on first name basis already?" Pansy pressed, happy to embarrass Hermione.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that." Although the words came effortlessly out of his girlfriend's mouth, Harry saw the blush rising in her face.

"Should I be worried?" Ginny asked, caught by surprise.

"No!" Hermione denied. "That's ridiculous, we just spoke. I thought we were supposed to mingle?"

"I wouldn't call what you two did mingle," Susan spoke.

"You seemed excited about Krum too, Susan," Harry intervened, passing the honey to her before she could reach forward to get it. "Were you guys talking about your pregnancy? 'Cause I thought that was supposed to be a secret."

"Yes, actually," Susan confessed, rubbing her belly. "I said something about it accidentally, and, after that, we spoke a lot about babies and what we expect for the future. Lisa was very respectful of my wishes and vowed to remain silent about the pregnancy."

"That's sweet of her," Ginny commented, sipping Harry's milkshake like she always did. It was kind of a tradition, Harry would offer her a glass, and she would always refuse it, only to later monopolize his cup.

"What about you, Ginger?" Blaise questioned, throwing a biscuit at her. "Don't think I didn't see you practically on my sister's lap."

"I tripped, you idiot," She answered, grabbing the biscuit mid-air and throwing it back at him. "Don't be a pervert."

"Tripped?" Neville asked, incredulous. "I don't see you doing that very often."

"I was wearing a new pair of heels, geez. Lay off," She complained. "Hermione said I looked sexy wearing them. What is this, the high inquisition?"

"But you were talking to her," Hermione said, bringing the conversation to focus again.

"I was," Ginny confirmed, nodding her head. "I spent most of the night talking to Alessa, Katie, and Delmeza, on the bar, and I have to say something. Delmeza's boobs are so incredible that I had trouble concentrating."

Harry choked on his juice for a second before he began laughing with everybody else. He could always trust Ginny to make such comments.

"I told you she had double D's," Blaise said smugly.

Hermione was beginning to frown, so Harry kicked Ginny under the table and subtly nodded in Hermione's direction.

"I'm just kidding, baby," The read-head rushed to say, leaning forward to kiss their affronted third.

"You are not," Hermione contested, rolling her eyes and relaxing. "But never mind. What did you think of them, other than the great pair of boobs?"

"Please tell me you hated my sister," Blaise whined, still unhappy with his sister's decision.

"Oh, shut up, Blaise!" His wife slapped his arm. "Do grow up."

"Thank you." Hermione was always smiling whenever Blaise was put in his place.

"Actually..." Ginny sounded a little uncertain, and that didn't bode well for anyone. "She's great, but I got the feeling she was excited to be with Harry... Only Harry."

"Did she say that?" Harry demanded, a little angry.

"No!" She rushed to explain. "Of course not. I just got that feeling from the way she spoke."

"I'm not terribly surprised," Blaise admitted. "She only ever dated men, as far as I know. I'm not even certain if she is attracted to women."

"That's gonna be awkward," Neville said, pouring Susan more tea. "How do you ask someone if they are bisexual?"

"With your mouth," Pansy recommended. "Don't be such a Hufflepuff, Longbottom."

"Hey!" Susan protested, in between bites. "There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff."

"Of course," Pansy said, winking at her. "Don't get crazy on me, mama."

"Fuck you," Susan added, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"Anyway," His girlfriend continued. "I thought she was wonderful but clearly more invested in being Harry's girlfriend than anything else, and I'm not sure how to feel about that."

"It is weird," Harry commented, munching on a biscuit. "I only spoke with her very briefly, when she arrived and when she left. But I didn't observe anything worth notice."

"What about Katie and Delmeza?" Hermione asked, already tensing a little.

"I wanted to talk about Katie, to be honest," Ginny admitted, playing with a grape in her hand. "She sounded great to me. We spoke a lot, and she was funny and calm. And before you freak out, let me say, we did talk a lot about Quidditch, but she initiated several other topics without my incentive. If I had to choose someone today, it would probably be her."

"Other topics, you say?" Hermione sounded contemplative, and Harry wasn't sure if she liked what she heard or not.

"Katie got points with me when she got food for herself but allowed me to steal almost half of it," Susan added. "And she doesn't even know I'm pregnant."

"You only think about food, Merlin," Pansy mentioned. "Being pregnant doesn't give you the right to become bigger than Hogwarts, you know?"

"Neville says I'm beautiful," Lady Longbottom replied, lifting her chin.

"Does he?" The Slytherin provoked, looking ready to start an argument.

"Don't start, Pansy," Hermione scolded, clearly not happy. "Save your venom for Zabini."

"What about you, Blaise?" Harry asked, trying to defuse the situation and curious to know his opinion. If there was one thing he valued about him was his honesty, and in that case, it was very necessary. "What did you see?"

"I walked around a little to see everyone else talking and interacting, but saw nothing too interesting until I saw the huge reunion table Pansy had somehow arranged." He started his tale, happily. Blaise was a talker, everyone knew it. "Carrow, Davis, Dunbar, Lovegood... it was a great opportunity to see them all at the same time, so I sat there and observed."

"I saw you sitting there too, Harry," Hermione questioned, confused.

"Yes, but I didn't stay long," He didn't say it was because he craved a smoke like crazy.

"So, what did you find out?" Neville asked, apparently curious too.

"Tracy changed a lot, which is good," Blaise continued, crossing his arms. "She used to be Daphne's shadow and nothing else, no personal opinions or any real personality that I could perceive. I guess she was forced to grow up when they fought and went separate ways. Now, as a healer, she seems more confident."

"Carrow owns a bookstore specifically for potions books, which gets her many points with me, honestly. She's very passionate about the subject, and I can definitely relate to that. I thought about you, Hermione, a lot of times during the conversation, as she spoke about some rare books she has been collecting over the years. Can you believe she got her hands on Arsenius Jigger's book?"

"No way!" Hermione denied, incredulous.

"I could barely believe it myself," He confirmed, eyes shining. "Imagine all the experiments he did and never published, all in a single book... It's unbelievable."

"Did she allow you to see it?" Hermione leaned forward on the table and demanded, looking as though she was about to run to the bookstore and steal the book herself.

"She said she could be persuaded, which means I'm getting my hands on that book sooner or later."

It was weird seeing Blaise and Hermione speaking so passionately about the same thing, but potions was an interest they shared, and it was important enough to make them put aside their differences.

"That's an incredible opportunity, I'm amazed," The brunet gushed like a fangirl.

"It is," Blaise confirmed, looking a little dazed.

"Aside from the book, Blaise," Ginny interrupted, impatient as always. "We can't choose someone only because she has an impressive book collection."

She was right, of course, but Hermione and Blaise looked about to disagree with her reasoning.

"Nice voice and a great ass," Blaise added, shrugging. "Overall she seems fine, nothing wrong, yet."

"Dunbar confuses me, though. She's an unspeakable and, therefore, full of secrets — which already leaves me uncertain about her. But the really creepy thing is that, in the interview, she was almost robotic — no expression whatsoever — but last night she was laughing and telling jokes like a normal person. It's strange."

"I thought I was the only one who noticed that," Hermione interjected. "It was strange to see her so different... almost like a whole other person."

"She seemed normal to me," Harry said, not understanding.

"You didn't see her in the interview," Neville explained. "I mean, nothing against her, she seemed nice last night. The abrupt change is weird, that's all."

"What about Padma?" Harry asked. "She looked a lot different from what I remember."

"Well, she's going to deliver my baby, so try not to upset her until then," Susan demanded, not making any sense.

"Susan, you're two months pregnant," Ginny explained, foolishly trying to reason with the hormonal individual sitting in front of her. "By the time you are ready to deliver, the meetings will be over."

"What if my baby is premature?" She questioned, frowning a little.

"Four months premature?" Ginny insisted, rolling her eyes. "I don't think so."

"Nobody is going to upset Padma, so no need to worry," Harry intervened, patting Ginny's leg under the table. "Who talked to her?"

"I did," Hermione said. "Neville and I, actually. We bumped on our way to the bar and decided to sit and catch up a little. Apparently, Parvati got married and moved outside the country, but is quite unhappy. I think that her sister's marriage made her realize how important it is to find a healthy relationship."

"I thought so too," Neville agreed, nodding his head. "I got the feeling that the hospital is her entire life and only now did she notice how lonely that is. Padma told me she always wanted to have a dog, but her life is so rushed she didn't have the heart to leave a dog alone all day."

"I could relate to that on so many levels," Hermione affirmed, rubbing her eyes. "How easy would it have been for me to get obsessed with my job if I didn't have this?" She gestured to the table.

"She seemed okay, like all the other contestants, Harry." Neville summarized, grinning a little. "You've got your work cut out for you."

"Great," He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Do you think we'll be able to choose when the time comes?" Hermione whispered, sounding more confused now than she had been at the beginning.

"Look, this was only the first meeting, let's not panic yet, okay?" Harry tried to calm her down. "We'll do our best to find the right girls."

"And if you don't?" Pansy asked, leaning against Blaise.

"I don't know," He responded. "Maybe we'll make a new life in France."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, don't leave me hanging! I want to know your opinions about the girls as well. Which five girls would you pick?
> 
> Don't forget to vote!


	13. Train of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fucking back, bitches! I've been traveling, and it's kept me from posting this chapter before, but now I'm back, and I'll start to post somewhat regularly.
> 
> Don't forget the poll is still open to voting for your favorite girls. There's not much time left, hurry up!
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who keep reviewing this story, giving me pointers and encouraging me to continue to write. You all rock.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, not even a little bit of it. Sadly.

The house was in complete silence while Harry Potter read the letter in his hands. He was spread out on a couch in the living room, enjoying the peace of the moment. Both his girlfriends were working — as he should be — and he had the house all to himself.

Harry was contemplating about his lunch options when the doorbell rang. He immediately got up, frowning. No one ever used the doorbell in his house.

The next second, the person rang it again, sending a pulse of magic with it. Harry tensed instantly, getting up to open the door.

Luna stood there, wild hair flowing with the wind and a huge Gryffindor jumper covering her entire body — a jumper that had been his, a long time ago.

"Why the doorbell?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe when she made no move to step inside the house.

"We can't be alone together at the same place," She explained, smiling. "And I imagined you would want a private explanation. Was I wrong?"

No, she was absolutely right. The party hadn't been an ideal place for them to talk privately.

"Shall we sit?" He suggested, knowing she would have no trouble with it.

"Of course," Luna replied, sitting on the grass.

"So, let's get to it, then," Harry said, raising his eyebrow. "I have to admit, Luna, I'm expecting some impressive history."

"I'm sorry, Harry," She apologized, reaching forward to touch him but letting her hand fall before if reached him. "I know I should've told you I was going to send my file, but it didn't seem right to do it by letter."

"So you decided not to tell me at all?" He asked, not impressed.

"I was afraid of what your answer might be," Luna confessed, biting her lips. "I didn't know if your feelings had changed."

"My feelings?" Harry questioned, almost angrily. "If my memory serves me right, you were the one who turned me down."

"Ginny would have never forgiven me; you know that," She said. Again. "I'm her best friend. The shoulder she cried on when you told her you loved Hermione too. How was I supposed to tell her I loved you?"

"So you were okay with hurting me, but not Ginny?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"It would've been worse if I stayed," She begged, trying to reason with him. "Do you think I wanted to leave?"

"It certainly felt like it when you disappeared one morning without even a goodbye," Harry shrugged, not ready to show how much she hurt him.

"I sent you a thousand letters you never replied to," She whispered. "I wasn't strong enough for a face to face goodbye, forgive me."

"Do you know I found Ginny crying one day, in the bathroom, cursing your sudden departure?" He told her, taking some perverse pleasure in seeing her eyes watering. "Do you have the faintest idea of what it felt like to comfort her when all I wanted was to be comforted myself?"

"I'm sorry," She said, tears finally rushing down her face. "I saw no other way."

"Now you decided I'm good enough for you?" Harry mocked, standing up. "You want to be my wife now?"

Luna stood up too and came even closer; So close, in fact, that they were almost touching. "You are all I ever wanted, Harry Potter. Maybe I screwed things up and ran away, I'm not denying, but I'm here right now. I cannot express enough how much it pained me to be away or how long I waited for your letters that never came. If your feelings have changed, if I'm no longer what you want, then tell me right now, and I'll leave."

Luna had been his first love, the one he invited to the Yule Ball in secret. But she rejected him, not for the last time. Harry wanted to push her away and tell her never to come back. He wanted to curse her and scream to the world how badly she hurt him. But, more than anything else, he wanted to kiss her. His mind was telling him one thing while his heart screamed another.

Fortunately for him, between his heart and his mind, Harry knew which he wanted to choose. So he stepped forward and kissed her.

It was nothing like a reunion kiss should be. Harry kissed her hard and desperate, as though she might escape if he didn't hold her hard enough. Nevertheless, Luna responded by kissing him just as hard, grabbing his hair and his shirt at the same time. It certainly lacked any finesse, as their teeth hit more than once, but it was incredible.

When they finally stopped to catch a breath, Luna laid her forehead against his and said: "Please, don't ever let me go again."

Harry was aware that things weren't going to be that simple, and that they still had a lot to talk about, but he allowed himself to hold her for the moment and pretend everything was right with the world.

............................................................

Hermione arrived home with a big bouquet of flowers. Not any flowers, though, Kadupul Flowers. They were Hermione's favorite, although very few people were aware of that. The extremely rare flower only bloomed at night, and it often died when picked, so it required a few special spells to extend its lifespan. To say they were expensive would be a massive understatement.

"I... They were at my table when I got to work," She explained, sounding as shocked as one would expect. "They're from Lisa..."

"How did she know they were your favorites?" Ginny asked, not getting up from her comfortable place on the couch.

"I don't know," Hermione shook her head, confused. "I certainly never said anything."

"Well, she's definitely making an effort," Harry conceded, before getting up to grab a vase.

"That's more than an effort, and you know it. She's pulling the big guns here," Ginny stated, crossing her arms. "Next thing you know she'll be giving her expensive books."

"Or maybe she wanted to do something nice, Ginevra," Hermione raised an eyebrow in disagreement.

"Don't you Ginevra me, Hermione," Ginny said, stand up and moving to the liquor cabinet. "You're too invested in this girl."

Harry chose not to interfere, merely accepting the flowers and arranging them in the vase. He knew Ginny had a valid point, but he wanted to see what Hermione would say for herself.

She signed, running an absent hand through her hair and tugging lightly. "It's just hard for me to stay impassive in this... I'm not sure how I'm supposed to behave with girls that may, or may not, be in my future."

"You're doing fine... With everyone but Lisa," Harry said, offering an apologetic smile. "You're getting too attached Hermione, it worries me."

Ginny moved and hugged her. "We don't want you to get hurt."

"I know," Hermione response was given in a defeated tone. "I just wish things could be easier, that's all."

"I have chocolate," Harry suggested tentatively, knowing everything was better with chocolate. The response smiles he got were enough to consolidate his belief.

Being right was good.

.......................................................................

The youngest Weasley sat on the couch, leaning against the back and arms spread on the sides. She portrayed the image of smug satisfaction; quirky smile included. "So, I got a visit at work today."

"And you plan to tell us from who that was?" Hermione asked, clearly not joining her girlfriend's game. She was reading a huge book and not even looking up to speak. Apparently, werewolves mating habits were a lot more interesting than they sounded.

"I might if you pay attention," Ginny bargained, too excited about her story to argue. "It's a pretty unexpected person, I guarantee."

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her perfect nose, before raising her eyes and glaring at Ginny. She wasn't actually irritated about the interruption; Harry would know. If the brightest witch of her age were really engrossed in a book, nothing could move her, no matter how compelling.

"I have a firm belief that you wait for me to pick a book to say whatever it is that you wish, I swear," She mumbled, closing her book.

Harry forced his smile into submission. It would not do to smile now. Hermione frustration shouldn't be funny; it really shouldn't.

"I have no idea what you mean," The red-head dismissed, before looking at Harry to guarantee he was paying the proper attention. "Anyway, I was relaxing during my break when I saw her, watching me from the benches: Flora Carrow."

Harry felt his brow furrow and his shoulders tense immediately. Hearing that a Carrow had been near his girlfriend rubbed him in all the wrong ways, no matter how cute the kid was.

"What did she want?" He meant to ask, but it came out more like a demand than anything else.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered in a concerned voice; her whole expression morphing into a softer, more sympathetic look.

"I have no idea what she wanted actually," Ginny interrupted, probably knowing he wouldn't relax until he heard the whole story. "She brought an incredible strawberry pie and offered me a piece. I just couldn't say no to that. I don't know how she found out it was my favorite."

Harry noticed a guilty look passing quickly across Hermione's face before a more blank stare replaced it. Well, there it went the mystery.

"And she just started to talk to me, like we were just meeting," She continued, clearly too engrossed in her memories to pay attention to her surroundings. "It was kind of crazy, to be honest. We spoke about life, and travels, and experiences... Not once did she mentioned the Announcement."

"She's so effortlessly, and it's kind of mesmerizing to watch. For example, when I finished my piece of pie she just swapped our plates without interrupting the conversation. I didn't ask; she didn't offer; it just happened."

The silence descended on the room after Ginny's final word. Harry knew he should say something; every minute passing only made the silence more awkward. But so should Hermione, why wasn't she saying anything?

"I don't know what to say," Hermione finally spoke, running a hand through her hair. "I don't dislike her. In fact, I especially like a few things about her — like the fact that she's academically oriented. But, Ginny, hearing that name coming out of your lips... it's disconcerting."

"It wasn't such a big deal," Ginny said evenly. "We spoke and ate pie, nothing else. I know you two are struggling with her parentage, and I understand, but you gotta let it go. I got over what happened; it's time you do too. She doesn't deserve to live in her father's shadow."

Let it go? How could Harry forgive and forget when it all felt so raw and open? He didn't hate the girl, far from it, she even seemed like a decent person, but that didn't mean he wanted her alone with Ginny.

"You're not wary of Lisa," Ginny admonished lightly.

"She didn't hurt me, Ginny," Hermione stated, shocked. "How can you compare them?"

"Neither did Flora, Hermione," She corrected, her soft voice filling the room. "Vasilisa and Flora don't deserve to live like this; I thought we had agreed on that. They are no more guilty of their fathers' sins than we are."

Harry released all the air in his lungs at once, rubbing his eyes. He knew, rationally, that they were being unreasonable about it. If any other girl had gone in Carrow's place, he would have no problem with it.

"You're right, of course," He gave in. "I just need time to get used to it. It just seems like a lot of the past is returning all at once."

Hermione grabbed his hands, taking comfort in his words.

"I suppose we all have to adapt to this new situation," She said, nervously. "The train is moving faster, guys, we have to catch up."

"We will," Ginny determined, a reassuring smile set in place. "We'll be just fine."

Her faith was, indeed, comforting. At the moment they were half drowning, maybe calmer waters were ahead.

"Wait," Harry said, remembering something important. "I thought we weren't allowed to be alone with the contestants 'till the end of the meetings."

"You're not. Technically, though, I have no relation to you whatsoever. The rules don't apply to me," She thought she was explaining something, Harry could tell, but the message wasn't clear yet.

"No relation? Am I missing something?" He demanded, not understanding her point.

"Harry, what Ginny is trying — and failing — to explain is that formally you both are not connected," Hermione explained, going into lecture mode. "The Announcement is an ancient tradition, and when it was designed, there were no girlfriends or boyfriends, only husbands, and wives — officially, of course. So while being a Link means I'm trapped with you by the rules of it, Ginny is not."

"But if we were engaged..." He trailed.

"Engagements are not magically binding, Harry, it changes nothing. Her situation would only alter if you married her in a magical ceremony."

...............

"I received a letter from Daphne today," Harry mentioned, breaking the comfortable silence they were sharing. "Blaise talked to Draco, and he has a contract written, only waiting for our approval."

"That was fast," Hermione noticed, clearly appreciating his competence.

If that was one quality Hermione searched in the people she surrounded herself with, that was competence. Her department in the ministry was the most functional one in it.

"Blaise can be pretty annoying when he wants something," Harry mentioned, knowing he was underplaying it.

"You don't say?" Hermione mocked, raising an eyebrow.

"Did she say anything else?" Ginny asked before they could start arguing about Blaise.

"Not really," He shrugged, grabbing Ginny's feet and massaging it. "Just thanked me for what I'm doing. She was kind of cryptic, but it seemed like she was trying to show she could also be friendly."

"Well, I just might have to read it to believe the ice queen is being an agreeable person," The redheaded said, before throwing her head back and moaning. "Yes, right there."

Harry smiled at her obvious appreciation, making sure to apply more pressure at the same point again.

"Yes, dear."

"You're so good to me," She praised, sending him mock kisses.

"Ok, princess and slave, may I send a letter to Draco?" His impatient girlfriend asked. "I want to schedule a meeting as soon as possible."

"Of course," He replied, knowing that she was dying to get her hands on that contract. "Whenever works for both of you."

"For the three of us," Ginny corrected, forcefully. "No way I'm not participating."

"God, when I think that, in a year, we'll have a baby..." Harry mused out loud, freaking out slightly.

"And other five girls, let's not forget that," Hermione added, unhelpfully.

"Well, life with Harry Potter is never boring, I'll give you that," Ginny conceded, before winking.

"Never boring," Harry responded, rolling his eyes. "That should be the motto of our house."

....................

Harry could have — should've — told them about Luna's visit, but it was too personal to share.

Some things were better left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't be more excited for the response to this chapter. Don't leave me hanging!


	14. Dogs and Fights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said updates would be more regular but college has been keeping me so busy I haven't had the time to sit down and write. Anyway, the next chapter is here.
> 
> I want to remind that this fanfic is rated M for a reason. If you're under 18, you shouldn't be reading this.
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who follows this story. You're all awesome.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry's sexy body is mine only in my rich imagination.

Peace isn't a constant state of mind; it's a fleeting thing. One couldn't hold onto it, it was a helpless act, for the more one worked to keep it the more it slipped through one's fingers. Real peace came unannounced, so subtle indeed people usually only noticed it had been there when it was gone.

That wasn't one of those moments, however. Harry Potter was absolutely aware of the peace surrounding him, as he was of its imminent end. But, for the time being, he was content just to lay there.

In fact, he could probably lay there forever, in the soft grass, soaking up the gentle sun while his dog ran around him. The only sounds to be heard were the wind blowing and Simba's weight crushing the grass beneath his paws.

Unfortunately, his time was almost up. In a few minutes, the girls were going to get ready to leave, and he would have to get up. Get up to have lunch at Malfoy's house. If that wasn't a wasted day, Harry didn't know what was.

Daphne's contract was almost ready. In a few days, he would be signing up to be her husband and the father of her child.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice rang through space, effectively ending his rest time.

Harry got up, charming his clothes clean, before making his way to the house. His faithful companion followed his steps, probably sensing his reluctance in going away. Before he crossed the doorway, Harry stopped to pet Simba and scratched his ears.

"Sorry, Buddy, I can't take you with me," Harry apologized. "We'll run when I get back, ok?"

The Golden Retriever barked, in what Harry took as compliance. Most of the times he swore the dog understood what he said.

"Behave, alright?" He pleaded, before entering the house and moving to the leaving room.

Ginny stood next to an inpatient Hermione, calmly talking to someone on the phone — one of the benefits of living in a muggle neighborhood.

"No, tomorrow is fine," Ginny said, "I'll talk to Neville, but I'm sure he and Susan will be free."

He raised an eyebrow in Hermione's direction, silently questioning who the caller was.

"My mom," She silently mouthed, exasperated.

"Great, we'll see you then," Ginny carried on, completely ignoring her girlfriend's exasperation. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure it will be fine. See you, bye."

The second she hung the phone up, Hermione was pouncing.

"Are we having my parents over tomorrow?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did invite them to lunch," The red-hair replied, flicking her hair to the side. "Your mother is excited to see Susan's belly — although there isn't much of it yet. She said she'll bring the food, isn't that great?"

"That you explore my mother for lasagna?" Hermione deadpanned. "Yes, it's simply amazing."

"Not only that. She also makes a mean chicken pie," Ginny corrected, unconcerned.

It was funny; not a lot of people could stand in front of a frowning Hermione Granger and be cheeky. Her reputation preceded her anywhere she went, and most people were smart enough to avoid stirring her temper. However, Ginevra Weasley wasn't most people, and she enjoyed being able to drive Hermione crazy as often as possible.

"Ginny, I had planned to finish some paperwork tomorrow," She stated, temper slowly rising. "I want to present the proposal to the minister next week."

Harry could've intervened; he should've. But that was simply too funny to interrupt.

"The vampire proposal?" Ginny questioned, placing her hands on her hips. "For the love of Merlin, Hermione! You have that thing ready for over a month now, why are you still holding on to it? There's only so much reviewing one can do to a same piece of paper."

"It's an important paper, Ginny. I can't just write some words and be done with it," Hermione chastised. "I'm dealing with people's lives, their future. How can you be so reckless?"

"I'm not!" Ginny denied, raising her voice. "You obsess, we all know it. If you want to be locked up in your study the whole day, again, fine. But I won't put my life on hold for your work."

The conversation — which had quickly stopped being entertaining — ended abruptly, when Ginny grabbed her bag and stormed out of the house, slamming the door on her way.

"Shit!" Hermione cursed, dropping her head in her hands.

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked, knowing he probably missed the beginning of that particular argument. Ginny didn't explode like that so quickly.

"She thinks I'm not as committed to this process — of The Announcement — as I should," She answered, rubbing her face. "I've been working a lot, and she resents it."

Well, that explained it. It was true; Hermione always worked too much. She thrived on it. And, typically, they all dealt with it pretty well. But lately... It was overwhelming, even for her.

He didn't know what to say. He missed her too but also understood that it was her way of dealing with all the changes happening in their lives.

"Hermione..."

"I thought this would be somewhat easier," She admitted, letting her body fall onto the couch behind her. "I haven't been coping as well as I wanted."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry pleaded, crunching in front of her.

"I know it has to be done, so why bother you with my shortcomings?"

"Shortcomings? Are you kiddin'?" He fumed. "Hermione, what a load of bullshit it this?"

She looked him in the eyes and Harry's heart clenched. Her beautiful dark eyes — probably his favorite feature of her — were filled with unshed tears.

"I want to be the strong woman you deserve-" Her voice cracked and then faded.

Harry moved forward and hugged her, not bearing to see her hurting and not do anything about it. Hermione didn't hesitate; she held onto him like a life saver, breathing his smell deeply.

"I'll never deserve you, Hermione, even if I live a thousand years," He assured, caressing her back. "You don't need to hide from us; we are struggling too. So much. We want to do this together; don't run away."

"I feel like kidnapping and hiding you both to myself. I can't stand the thought of us, suddenly not being us anymore," She confessed, digging her nails into his arms.

He didn't even flinch.

"Really, Miss Granger, how devious of you. What would you do to me, if you had me all to yourself?"

The suggestive words slipped out of his mouth, not even registering in his brain first. Harry was about to apologize and reassure her of his love when she whispered in his ear:

"Why, Lord Potter, I would make sure you'd never want to leave."

And, just like that, his mind switched off, and blood began to rush elsewhere. Hermione had the uncanny power of making him forget everything around him and focus only on her. Suddenly, Harry was hipper aware of every patch of her skin touching his.

"Hermione," He repeated, gripping her legs tightly, the tone completely different from before; it was a warning.

She invaded his personal space even further, biting his ear.

"Afraid of getting burned?" She dared, knowing that wasn't the case at all.

"We have somewhere to be," He tried to reason, but not being able to help himself as he moved his hand up her thighs.

"I can stop, if that's what you want," Hermione teased, scratching his arms slowly and kissing his neck.

He tried to collect his thoughts, forcing his brain to work. They had people waiting for them; he had to be responsible. Yes, that would be the right thing to do. Harry was about to push her away when she stuck her hands inside his shirt and caressed his stomach, simultaneously sucking on the junction of his neck. Hard.

The pleasure rushed through his body so sudden and intense it left Harry breathless. A groan slipped past his lips when she released his flesh from her mouth.

They certainly weren't leaving anymore.

He got up and pushed her flat against the couch, before laying on top of her — covering her body with his.

"You're an awful influence," He stated, running his hand down her body.

She kicked her shoes off, "Are you complaining?"

"Yes, indeed I am," Harry said, grabbing the zipper on the side of her dress and swiftly pushing it down. "I just might have to teach you some manners."

Her eyes shone, entirely focused on him, showing how much she wanted him at that moment. Having that kind of power over someone — over her — was so empowering. It made him want to make her scream his name.

"If it involves more of what you're doing right now, I won't complain," She moaned as he pushed her dress up, grippin' her hips and grinding her into him.

Of course, he was already hard. His length was pushing against his pants, uncomfortably tight, the friction only making it worse. Harry was trying to control himself, but the way she was moving made it impossible.

"Stay still," He ordered, kissing her neck and biting it.

In response, she ground harder against him — her panty covered core so close to where he wanted it.

"Fuck," He lifted her arms, shoved the dress off her and held her wrists together, slamming her back into the couch. "Stay still, my love."

"Why are you wearing so many clothes?" She complained, apparently lacking the friction she needed.

If they weren't so caught up in each other the footsteps coming their way would have registered it their mind, and there might have been some time to leave the compromising position they were in.

"What the fuck?" Blaise's voice rang through the leaving room.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so hesitant about this chapter. I never wrote sex scenes before, and this one took quite some time to come together — even though it's very short. I hope I did ok, but if you guys don't like it, please let me know, and I won't write anymore.


	15. A Change of Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people, welcome back.
> 
> I wanted to let you all know that my poll is finally closed and the winner has been chosen. Her name will be revealed later as to not spoil the fun to any of you. I'm super excited, thank you all for voting, it gave me an excellent idea of who you'd like to see in this story.
> 
> Again, thank you. I can't get enough of showing my appreciation for the incredible reviews I'm getting every day; it's always an amazing feeling reading every one of them.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except this small story right here. It's all borrowed. Please, don't sue me.

_I could curse him._

The dark, rapid thought crossed his mind before he could stop it, leaving a sudden awareness all through his body in expectation. His magic rushed forward — just a tiny bit — waiting to be released from the constant tight hold he kept it under.

He wouldn't even need his wand; It would be quick, effortless.

But before the curse left his lips, Hermione's voice cut through the silence.

"Zabini, would you give us a moment. Please?" Her voice was tight, and Harry suddenly realized that her whole body had gone tense under his, probably sensing his impending retaliation.

He didn't look to see Blaise's reaction, but her unusual politeness must have indicated the seriousness of the situation because Harry heard the steps indicating he had left the room.

"Harry," Hermione called his name quietly, perhaps afraid of startling him. "Zabini probably came to fetch us for the meeting. I'm sorry we were interrup-"

"Don't." He cut her. "It's not your fault."

Harry released the air he didn't know he was holding, allowing himself to relax and drop a little of his weight on his girlfriend's body.

"I shouldn't have lost control so easily," He admitted, embarrassed by his lack of restraint.

She didn't say anything but instead caressed his face with such tenderness that it said more than whatever she could've spoken. Her fingers softly running across his temple, to the bridge of his nose, to finally rest on his lips where she laid them before looking him in the eyes.

"Forgive me," She said, her eyes glossed over with unleashed tears. "I... I love you so much that it physically hurts me sometimes; I swear. I want — no, I need — to be with you every step of the way, but sometimes a desperate need to hide you all to myself overcomes me, and the best way I found to deal with it was by isolating myself."

For a second he hated himself a slightly more than usual for making her feel that way. His fucked up life would always be a never-ending line of difficulties, most of which would risk his life. It wasn't fair to involve anyone in his mess, let alone someone as special as Hermione, who would always stand by his side no matter what the cost may be.

How could he even entertain the idea of allowing five other girls into his house, his life? Did his selfishness know no boundaries?

"Please stop," He begged, not being able to stand her kindness any longer. He didn't deserve it. "I should be the one apologizing, not you. Never you. If I'd paid more attention, I would've noticed how you were feeling."

Surprisingly, Hermione cracked a smile at that. The corners of her mouth rising just a little to accommodate her amusement.

"You've always been too quick to take all the blame from all of our problems, Harry Potter," She said. "And I know why — of course I do - but you need to stop blaming yourself for allowing people in, you know. Nobody forces me to be here — and before you say it, no, not even my unwavering Gryffindor sense of loyalty. I stand by your side every day because it is my wish to do so; because it makes me happy. Yes, this situation is new and scary, but it doesn't make me want you any less."

"But would you ever tell me if you weren't happy anymore?" He asked, needing to know the answer but frightened of it. "Happy with me, I mean."

"When have I ever not spoken about something that felt wrong to me?" Hermione comforted, brushing her lips against his. "But don't get your hopes too high, 'cause I'm not planning to let you go in the foreseeable future."

He knew that the day Hermione Granger decided to leave him would be the beginning of the end for him. She'd been by his side through every single important part of his life — since he actually began to live, not just exist — and it would be only fitting if it ended with her departure.

Not that he would ever tell her that. Her happiness came before almost everything in his life.

"Zabini is still waiting," She reminded him after a while of silence. "We should probably get dressed."

"Well, you're the one wearing no clothes, Miss. Granger," He replied, getting up and running his eyes over every inch of her body. "I'm ready to go."

She made no move to get up as he watched her, all too happy to lay still for his perusal.

"Does it meet your approval?" Hermione mocked, raising an eyebrow.

"Most definitely," Harry said, allowing his voice to drop slightly. "I'd say it Exceeds Expectations."

Her face contorted in an angry expression. "Exceeds Expectations? Is that all I'm getting?"

He lowered his face enough to whisper in her ear. "Outstanding is reserved exclusively for when you are totally naked and screaming my name."

He felt her responding shiver running through her body and raised his face to see her responding blush. It was quite awarding to get those types of rare responses out of her, and it made a somewhat smug smile emerge on his face.

"Ok, Casanova, we're done here," The golden girl declared, getting up and picking up her discarded dress. "Zabini's waiting."

"Of course," Harry agreed, helping her close the zipper. "Let's not keep him waiting any longer. God knows he sucks at the whole patience thing."

"That's not the only thing he sucks at," She corrected, grabbing his hand and walking in the direction of the kitchen.

He followed her, still trying to control his tightly bound magic fully.

Blaise was there, of course, leaning against the wall while looking as peaceful as ever. It almost fooled Harry into believing he was not there for any other reason other than to collect them. Almost being the keyword.

"Zabini, your timing is as inopportune as ever," Hermione greeted tersely, her expression distorted in a deep frown.

"Well, dear," Blaise responded calmly, not seeming to understand — or care — about the danger he had been in. "To be quite fair, you are both late for a meeting. So, really, who is inopportune among us?"

She just stared at him, an eyebrow raised, not letting him off the hook. Not one to be intimidated, Blaise response was to wink at her very slowly and ridiculously.

"Bite me," She responded, looking torn between being angry and amused.

"You wish," The Italian smirked, smugly.

"Are you both quite done?" Harry intervened, not entirely able to disguise his own smirk. "Or should I leave you two lovebirds alone?"

"Please," Hermione countered, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "As if I would lower myself so much."

"Everyone knows you want a piece of this, Granger," Blaise insisted, gesticulating to his robe-clad body. "No need to deny."

"And by this you mean your diseased whorish body, I assume?" The sarcasm rolled off his girlfriend's tongue effortlessly.

Laughter threatened to erupt from Harry's body in response to Blaise immediate indignant expression.

"Granger, to your information, this body-" Blaise began, pursuing his lips.

"Don't we all have somewhere to be?" He interrupted, knowing that once they got really started, there would be no stopping them.

"So now you're worried about time?" The Slytherin mocked, stepping away from the wall he had been leaning on.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry used his most angelical tone possible — which, he had to admit, was not really that impressive. "I'm always worried about my commitments."

"You fool absolutely no one, Harry," The Italian assured, not impressed at all. It wasn't the first time he made sure Harry knew how bad of a liar he was, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Do I want to know why your other third showed up by herself?" Blaise asked, suddenly serious.

The Chosen One pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing the mess that awaited him. No doubt a fight was in his immediate future — even Trelawney, the incompetent fool, would've been able to predict it.

"It's none of your business, Zabini," Hermione spoke curtly, surprising him with her failure in the attempt to pretend to be unconcerned. "Stay out of it."

"Well, if you hadn't made it my business by making me come and get you both for your own arranged reunion than perhaps I wouldn't be stuck in the middle of your marital problems." Blaise had no problem being even ruder, his angry face a perfect mask. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have believed it, but he did, in fact, know better, and Blaise's mask wasn't able to hide the flicker of protectiveness in his eyes from him. The Italian was concerned about Ginny.

"Stop," Harry asked, half pleading. "Let's not do this, ok? I know you're both angry, but we need to go now." It wouldn't do to call any of them on their worries; it would be pointless as neither would ever admit it.

There was a moment of silence where no one seemed to know how to proceed, the unspoken problem hanging heavily in the room.

Hermione was the first to snap out of it, despite her still furious demeanor. She took a deep breath and said: "Come, we have a contract to sign."

Harry took a step towards the fireplace, knowing his day had only just begun.

....................................................

"Scarhead," The soft drawl came from the owner of the manor as soon as they stepped inside the posh office Draco inherited from his father.

It didn't faze him, not anymore. The manor might have been entirely renovated, and Malfoy might have changed sides sometime during the war, but if he ever began to sing Harry's praises, it would surely be the first sign of the apocalypse. The nicknames were a tradition; one Harry would be hard pressed to change.

"Ferret," He greeted back, savoring the words as they left his lips.

As Draco moved on to greet Hermione, Harry noticed that Ginny was already there — as he knew she would be — sitting on a chaise, perfectly composed, none of her previous anger showing on her face.

If there was one thing Ginevra Weasley did differently from any other from her family was that she didn't carry private affairs to the street.

When one dated two-thirds of the Golden Trio and was related to the third part, privacy became a necessity and a luxury. It was unacceptable to flaunt their personal lives to the world. At least that's what she thought, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

Sitting next to her, also lacking any real facial expression, was Daphne. In that day she looked stunning, even more so than usual, with her blond hair floating down her shoulders and her eyes — which were now gazing him back — contoured with black eyeshadow.

"Miss. Greengrass," He addressed, studying carefully the woman that was soon to become the mother of his child. His first child.

"Lord Potter," The words left her lips almost lazily, a sharp contrast to her usual formal tone.

Harry allowed his eyes to wander to the white dress she wore, which hugged her waist tightly, leaving her very flat stomach in evidence. She didn't look pregnant at all, which, although expected, still surprised him.

It still hadn't dawned on him that he was to become a father in less than a year. Father of a baby whose mother he never touched in his life. It certainly wouldn't be the strangest thing to ever happen in his life, weirdly enough, but it might make it to top five.

"Ok," Draco said, presenting all of them with copies of the contract he had spent the last days drafting up. "All your specifications are covered in the contract. Potter will perform the blood adoption ceremony as soon as the child is born and give it one of his many, many names, as well as swear to protect both Daphne and her bab-"

"Wait," Daphne intervened. "I don't need the protection, not really. I only want it for my child, as long as he or she is safe, I can take care of myself."

"Don't be obtuse," Draco dismissed before Harry could get a word in. "You'll be his wife; it would look suspicious if he didn't protect you. In fact, Potty is so sickening Gryffindor he wouldn't need a contract to feel the need to protect every single individual in the entire bubblegum planet he lives in."

"That's not true; you know it's not," Harry denied, knowing he had killed more people than one should be allowed to. "Anyway, considering the risks you'll probably face by bearing my children is only fair that I make this commitment."

She didn't respond, only looked straight at him with all the seriousness that the situation called for. Daphne looked as though she might be reevaluating her opinion on him — for better or for worst he did not know.

"Very well," She conceded, returning her gaze to Draco.

"Let's continue then," Malfoy carried on. "She'll agree to carry two heirs for whichever house Harry decides and, as per Ginny's insistence, remain faithful to him during their marriage."

"I don't care; she may choose the house she wants," He shrugged. "Although I have a certain feeling which one would be preferred."

"You won't chose?" The Ice Queen asked, her voice full of shock.

"What difference would it make?" Hermione inquired, looking as perplexed as Harry felt.

"It's a matter of prestige, most of all," Blaise said, crossing his legs. "The Dumbledor family is small and mostly poor, with not many significants wizards to show for — other than Albus, that's it. The Le Fey family, on the other hand, has been without a proper heir for decades and it's a very powerful lineage, with vast vaults full of priceless heirlooms."

"So it will look like I value one wife more than the others?" Harry confirmed what he already knew.

"Of course," Draco agreed. "Although many know of your association with the old man and will probably understand its value to you. However, it doesn't change the fact that it is a minor house, regarding money and power."

"That's ridiculous!" The words burst out of his mouth, as he rubbed his forehead. "I care not for the prestige of the houses."

"But everyone else does, so you might as well start giving it some thought. Your wives will have to deal with the past from their houses, no matter how unfair it may be. It would be naive to believe otherwise." It was unnerving how much Draco's voice sounded like Lucius's at that moment. "By choosing Granger to be a future Black you're dooming her to a tough political future, Potter. Have you considered it?"

He hadn't, not even for a moment. Hermione loved her political life, and he never thought about how his name would influence her future. He realized now how stupid he had been.

"I have," Hermione surprised him by sounding very calm. "I've always known that would be the house he would choose for me, and I'm glad. I have never been one to back down from a challenge, and I'll rebuild the Black name even if it's the last thing I do. I think that it would be a nice honor to Sirius."

Harry reached forward and grabbed her hand, overwhelmed by his emotions. She squeezed back, and he knew that she understood what this meant for him. That she would risk her career for him, for his name and the name of his family, meant more to him than words could show.

"I'm sorry," He mouthed to her, wishing he could express better how much he was sorry for all that he continued to put her through.

She shook her head, smiling softly.

"Don't be rude," Daphne reprimanded Draco without hesitation. "And that's not the entire reason. When you marry a person, you're giving her access to the house's family magic. I can't believe no one has told you this."

"I didn't know you had access to it unless you had strong blood connections," Ginny spoke for the first time, looking confused by the new information.

"Harry's connections are strong enough," She explained, leaning forward in her chair. "With the rings..."

"Could someone explain things to the muggle here," Harry pleaded, anxious.

"Family magics are particular types of magic that can't be learned or taught, one has to be born with," Hermione explained. "For example, you're a parselmouth, which is a specific type of magic from those who come from the Slytherin family. You're an exception, of course, but that's the principle of it. Tonks was a metamorphmagus, something only a person with Black blood can be."

"But I have blood from all these houses, couldn't any baby be born with some family magic?" Harry questioned, a frown etched on his face.

"No," Daphne answered. "To prevent something like this from happening the families tied their family magics to the Lord and Lady rings, so only their babies and their descendants could have the possibility of being born with the special trace."

"That's insane, I never knew blood this diluted could form a central branch of the family," Ginny said, crossing her arms and biting her lips.

"Harry's case is a very special one," Blaise explained, looking surprised by the news as well. "One the world hasn't seen for centuries, so it's difficult to try to draw parallels with others. And magic isn't something easy to predict. As it is, his kids may or may not show family magics; we can't be certain."

"But they might," Daphne insisted. "So you can't leave it to chance. You must choose each wife very carefully, knowing that she will be tied to the name you pick."

"I have no idea what I'm supposed to do," He admitted, looking for support in his girlfriend's eyes. "Well have to discuss this very carefully."

"Yes, this changes everything," Hermione agreed, her eyes already a little unfocused as she pondered over the possibilities.

Silence permeated the room as their occupants pondered over what had been said. Things were always a bit more complicated than they seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another step has been taken, and while I know things aren't progressing as fast as some would like, it wouldn't feel right to me if I rushed it. I want their relationship to feel natural and real, despite the unusual circumstances. So, please, hang on there with me — more action will come in later chapters.
> 
> I'm so looking forward to hearing what you guys thought of this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it on the train actually. 'Till next time, people.


	16. A Serious Talk, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've arrived with some good news — or at least what I hope to be good news. This chapter took a long time because inspiration hit me like never before, and when I saw, I was writing four chapters at the same time. It was insane. But, thankfully, the other three are almost ready too, so it's all a matter of revising them and uploading. That means the wait shouldn't be as long for the next ones, okay?
> 
> Again I would like to thank all who have taken the time to write words about my story. Words cannot express how happy I get when I read and muse about your interactions with these characters.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of nothing. I'm only pulling strings here.

" _Shit!_ " Ginny screamed as her third consecutive orgasm rushed through her body.

Her whole figure was a vision. Her creamy skin was flushed and sweaty, her hair spread out on the bed and — the best part — her tits bouncing as she trembled in pleasure.

"Please, no more," She begged, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "I don't think I can-"

"You sure?" The girl between her legs asked, kissing her inner thigh before biting it softly.

"Yes, I need a break," The red-head confirmed, an aftershock making her coil.

"Well, may it never be said that Hermione Granger doesn't know how to apologize properly," Harry declared, getting up from the chair he had been sitting on for the past hour.

The girl in question just smiled and laid back, allowing Ginny to use her body as a big pillow.

"I don't know," Ginny said, yawning. "I may require brownies later."

"Of course," Hermione agreed amicably, in a rare moment of submission.

"You'll be a mean pregnant woman," Harry affirmed, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Me? No," She whispered, half asleep already.

"Right," He mocked. "I better get going, that damn goblin is awful when I'm late."

"I think he's rather lovely," Hermione disagreed, before demanding. "Bring curry on your way back, will you?"

"Pulling out the big guns?" He asked, surprised.

Ginny's favorite dish was a rare treat in their house. It was from an old muggle place, which meant taking a subway and walking there.

She blushed a little. "Just bring the damn curry."

"What's in it for me, if I do?" Harry wondered out loud, raising an eyebrow.

His girlfriend's face went from embarrassed to amused in a second. "What would you like?"

He shouldn't trick her like he was about to, it was wrong. So wrong. But it didn't stop the words from passing his lips.

"Come to the ball with me," He requested, looking at the invitation on the bedside table.

"No!" She groaned, all the amusement leaving her at once. "Anything but that."

He said nothing, leaving his condition hanging in the air. When she realized he wouldn't offer another option, Hermione rubbed her forehead and glared at him.

"I hate you," She dramatically declared.

"No, you don't," He replied, smugly. "I'll get you a dress."

"Ugh, fine," Hermione conceded. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Curry it is, then," Harry declared, waving goodbye. "It was a pleasure negotiating with you, Miss. Granger."

"Don't forget the sauce on the side," She shouted, defeated. Knowing nothing would wake Ginny up from her deep sleep.

"I won't," He reassured, grinning happily as he did so.

It was time to get some answers.

............................................................

"Good evening, Lord Potter," Ragnok welcomed cheerfully, probably knowing it would annoy him. The damn goblin wasn't so fucking chipper.

"Cut the crap," He said, sitting in the chair. "Why didn't you tell me about the family magics?"

"I fail to see how it was my duty to do so," The head Goblin asserted, still grinning.

"Let's get serious," He proposed, happy to see Ragnok lose the happy face immediately. "I need your personal records from all the girls."

The silence was his only answer. Harry could see he had surprised Ragnok, but that brought him no pleasure. What he had just asked was highly illegal. Those files contained very personal information on every transition made by the witches in question.

"Why should I hand them to you, youngling?" Ragnok demanded, eyes narrowed.

"I need to know," He explained. "I can't risk giving all this power to women who may or may not abuse it. I fought in a war; I don't want anyone else to have to do the same."

"Why should I break my client's trust for you?" He asked, unimpressed. "You say you want what's best, but you more than most know how flexible one's moral can be in certain situations."

It was a pertinent question in the face of what Harry was requesting, but an impossible one too.

"I cannot offer you any more assurance other than what I already have," Harry admitted, facing Ragnok's obsidian stare head-on. "You have my money, my propriety location and most of my personal information. If I step out of line, I have just as much to lose as you do."

"No you don't," He denied promptly, not explaining any further.

Harry had nothing left to add, so he waited for the head-director to choose.

Ragnok allowed the silence to prolong for long minutes before he opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of paper, which he immediately handed over to Harry.

The first name read clearly on the page: Katie Bell

"You had them separated already!" Harry affirmed, incredulous. "Why did you make me justify myself?"

"I knew you'd want these files once you realized how serious your position was," He said, unaffected by Harry's outburst. "I do not, however, hand my client's information lightly, Lord Potter. The least you could do was justify yourself."

"I see," Harry lowered his eyes back to the stack in his hands.

He desperately wanted to read the content he had in his hands, but that wasn't the moment to do so. He still had unfinished business with Ragnok.

"Should I be wary of what I'll read on these?"

"No, I don't believe so," Ragnok said. "Some surprising information, have no doubts, but nothing quite alarming."

"Thank you," Harry knew how much Ragnok was risking to help him. "I'll burn these as soon as I'm done with them."

"Be sure to do so," He demanded, not reacting to the apology.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Harry wondered, leaning forward in his chair.

"You've already asked for worst things, shoot away," Ragnok shrugged, unconcerned by his possible question.

"Who do you think I should choose?" Harry didn't explain what he meant; it surely wasn't needed.

Sure enough, the goblin only raised his eyebrows in surprise, not confusion.

"Does my opinion count for something?" He wondered.

"If it didn't I wouldn't have asked," Harry assured. "I haven't the time to joke about such matters."

"I see," The head goblin thought for a while, tapping his fingers on the table.

Harry didn't disturb his thoughts, knowing it was a difficult question. Choosing lightly would be highly irresponsible, something Ragnok could not afford to be.

"My answer may only be clear after you read those pages, but if I had to choose based on the information I have now, my pick would be Miss Dolohov, Miss Lovegood, Miss Krum and Miss Zabini," He informed, smiling a little as he did so. Apparently, something was very amusing.

"You only chose four," Harry pointed out, suspicious already.

"I was under the impression you had already committed yourself to one of the contestants," He explained calmly.

"Were you?" Harry questioned. "And may I ask how you came across such information?"

"Not much happens without my knowing, Lord Potter. Don't think yourself above the rest of the population," Ragnok smugly pointed out, smile firm into place.

Harry rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait for once.

"I'd advise that you choose both the Le Fey and the Slytherin ladies with caution," Ragnok said, becoming quite serious. "The Le Fey title is very traditional in the wizarding world as a whole — not only in Britain — and for decades no heir has stepped up. A Le Fey is a powerful mage, with a lineage of extraordinary political figures in Europe history — you mustn't underestimate how much the past is favored in our world. Everyone will expect great things of both you and your future wife, a wrong choice would be a terrible stain to your family as a whole."

"How is one supposed to live up to Morgana's level, seriously? I feel stupid even trying," Harry said. "Morgana was just as legendary as Merlin; only she was darker and more prone to using her power on the offensive. I feel as though I'm setting my future wife to inevitable failure."

"No one rationally expects the second comings of Merlin or Morgana, no need for you to be so pessimistic. But they'll want someone who honors their importance to you, humans."

"Well, if only for appearances, perhaps I should pick Dolohov," Harry smiled sarcastically. "She sure looks like a Morgana descendent."

"I'm sure she would also appreciate the chance to perform some wild magic."

Harry smirked while admitting to himself that it would be amusing to watch the Dolohov girl lose control. What was with him and too proper girls that made him want to roughen them up?

"I'm assuming you are mentioning Slytherin because of the pureblood stigma?" Harry considered, letting the thought go just as quickly as it had come.

"Yes, that too," Ragnok spoke, nodding in agreement. "But because of the contents of the vaults. As you know, of the two vaults, one is full of books. Some of which hasn't seen the light of day since Salazar himself — and for a good reason. It would be most unfortunate if your future wife had no appreciation for the dangers it presents."

"I see," And Harry did see it. Salazar's research was famous enough to be familiar even to him, a complete layman —academically speaking — in charms. Some of the most popular spells they currently used had been invented by Salazar centuries ago. It was logical to presume that his unpublished research would still be there, gathering dust in an old Gringotts vault. And who knows what type of magic he was interested at the end of his life?

"So, what would you recommend? Choosing a pureblood wife if I want, saying that blood shouldn't matter — as it really doesn't —, or should I actively search for a muggle born?"

It was an honest question, but nevertheless a complicated one. His pursuit of a wife was quickly becoming bureaucratic, which went against most people's idea of how romantic love should be.

"If you let prejudice dictate your choice, then you're letting them win," Ragnok spoke calmly. "Try to choose the one you can see bringing the Slytherin name to light — and it won't be blood to determine who that will be. It does not actively matter; stop trying to fit this mold, it suits you ill."

Harry sagged in his chair, knowing the damn Goblin was absolutely right. He had done nothing but theorize about the whole deal since the beginning, and perhaps it was time to think about the personal side of things for a bit. He would, after all, have to live with the said person for the rest of his days — regardless of how suited for this or that role.

"Damn you and your wise words," He cursed, repressing the wish to throw something at Ragnok's head.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game," The head-director said, straight-faced.

The laughter that erupted from within' Harry's abdomen took even him by surprise, but it was impossible to remain unaffected by the scene he had just witnessed.

"Did one of your human clients tell you this?" Harry had to know.

"I have no idea what you mean," He was unmoved by Harry's spectacle.

"Whatever," Harry said, knowing Ragnok would not explain. "But that's not the only reason I came here today. I need the inventories from my new vaults and damn family magics..."

"Yes, I figured," Ragnok said, before calling sharply. "Gornuk!"

Harry no longer got surprised by the sudden appearance of the goblin — like he had been summoned out of the air.

"Get the personal files from Lord Potter's newest family titles," He ordered, not explaining anything to his worker. "And the latest inventories of the vaults."

If Gornuk thought the situation was unusual or strange, he never showed. With the same promptitude as he came, he also felt.

It only took him two minutes to return, carrying an armful of folders.

"Let's see the snakes first, shall we?" The head Goblin said, reaching for the Slytherin's vault folder.

Harry dared not to disagree, so his only choice was to wait for the information to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is. I hope it served to explain matters a little more.
> 
> I'll see you all next chapter.


	17. A Serious Talk, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I began writing this story I never thought it would have more than 500 followers. And it's crazy, but it does now, and it truly humbles me. Thank you, that's all I can say. Thank you all so very much for going on this ride with me.
> 
> I'd also like to take a moment to point out that nothing — not a single word — is without meaning in this story. So, if something doesn't make sense for now, believe me, it will sometime in the future. But you have to be patient and trust me. All will be answered.
> 
> Disclaimer: J.K owns the Harry Potter franchise. I, on the other hand, do not. So please don't sue me, okay?

Harry did not know how long he waited for Ragnok to say... well, anything. He was aware of the seconds blending into minutes, and of the numbness that began to spread from his legs up to his body. But he remained in silence, patiently waiting for the answers he so dearly desired.

"Well, that's both unsurprising and underwhelming," He finally began, breaking the quietness of the room without care. "We both knew of the parselmouth ability, and there's not a single creature blood in his line."

Harry felt his shoulder sag slightly with relieve. He wouldn't allow himself to be drawn into a false sense of security, but at least the first one wasn't any more complicated than he first imagined.

"You speak as though some huge surprise was desirable right now, and it's not. For all I care, the next four names could be just as unsurprising."

Ragnok seemed almost disappointed by Slytherin's lack of entertaining value — almost like it had betrayed some unspoken agreement between them.

"Not as much money as one would expect from a pureblood family, but it compensates with jewelry — which you could sell for a sizable fortune. However, heirlooms are typically preserved, so that might be a bit controversial."

"I probably won't sell them," Harry admitted. "Family jewelry is usually handled by the woman, as it's passed from mother to daughter. It would be a shame to deny my future wife of such tradition."

Ragnok said nothing, only passed the Slytherin papers to him and reached for the next one in front of him. Harry quickly looked at the numbers, again relieved when he saw the money would be more than enough to provide for his bride to be. One less problem, that's how he was currently counting his victories.

"Fire elementals," Ragnok said, not revealing which title he was referring to. "Now that's more like it. I was starting to believe this whole ordeal would be truly dull, but this good. Fire and air elementals, differently from water and earth elementals, are somewhat rare nowadays."

"Fire?" Harry asked, surprised. "Well, if that isn't from Gryffindor I'll be disappointed."

"Don't be, it is from your beloved Hogwarts house," He confirmed, not gazing up from the paper. "The last one to be known to have the ability died 276 years ago, but let's keep our hopes up."

"Your interest in my future kids is a little concerning," Harry stated, betraying his sentence with the amusement he felt. Ragnok honestly looked like he hoped Harry's children would all be born with some kind of special quality.

"When one lives a life as long as mine, you learn to seize the enjoyments which cross your path," The head-director said. "Now, sshh, there's family magic to be spoken of."

"Which is..."

"Merpeople-tongue," He answered. "It doesn't surprise me that Salazar's and Godric's lineage produced similar family magics."

"I thought merpeople could speak in human languages," Harry admitted, a little confused. "In fact, I spoke English with one."

"Yes, unlike snakes they can speak different dialogues other than their own," He confirmed. "But that doesn't mean they don't have their specific method of communication, which is peculiar and particular. As you must have listened in the tournament, Mermish involves hissing and growling a lot."

"Of course," Harry agreed, starting to see the possible ways in which one could benefit from that particular type gift. "Let me guess; they much prefer to speak in their own speech? Even with humans."

"Absolutely," Ragnok said, smiling softly. "Only their elders know human languages, even though it can be taught to any of them. And the elders don't always want to spend their energy with other species."

"You goblins have a unique dialog as well, don't you?"

"As a matter of fact, we do. Not many are aware though, as we do not wish for it to be commonly known. We only speak it among ourselves, when in private."

"I won't mention to anyone," Harry guaranteed, understanding the importance of secrecy. "No words shall pass my lips."

Ragnok rolled his eyes, exasperated, and Harry smiled, glad to be so entertaining.

"Now, the Le Fey," He continued, again handing the previous papers to Harry. "Necromancy, that's their family magic. One which I hope has died out with Morgana."

"Wait, I'm confused," Harry said. "Wasn't the ceremony Voldemort did to regain his body necromancy?"

"No, what he used was dark blood magic," Ragnok explained. "It's difficult to do, but can be used by any magical being strong and determined enough. Necromancy gave Morgana the ability to use the bodies of the dead to whichever purpose she desired. She could force a soul to return to its dead body and serve her wishes."

And there it was, what Harry had been dreading since he became aware of what family magic was. A dark power that could corrupt one of his children; a force so far out of his reach that it might mean his intervention would prove to be useless.

"Shit!" The curse flew from his lips in a rush, as he rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"As I said, you shouldn't concern yourself with this right now. I know it may seem impossible, but it's very possible that no one will ever again have this power. Torturing yourself over what may not come to be is a waste of effort you can't afford right now."

"Very well," Harry agreed, knowing he would have that discussion with his girls later. He might as well save his concerns until then. "What else?"

"Unsurprisingly the Le Fey family has creature blood in it," Ragnok continued, after examining his face for a moment. "Unfortunately is elf blood."

"Wait, I thought elves didn't mix with humans," Harry was quite sure of that. Hermione would always complain about how difficult it was even to find one.

"Elves are very secluded, but a relationship between one and a human it's not unheard of." He corrected." They are much less prone to wars and conflicts than humans and have long decided to not live among them. However, your concern should be with their lives, which extends to extraordinary lengths, and has led to a lower birth-level among them, which in turn, has made them have a high appreciation of children."

"Why should that be a concern of mine?"

"Pray that none of your children are born elves, Lord Potter," He said. "For they believe only an elf can raise another elf properly, which means your care would be insufficient and your children would be ripped away from your house."

"I dare any elf to try and steal my kids," Harry said, frowning deeply.

"Do not delude yourself into thinking you could outsmart an elf. You'd lose every time."

Harry did not answer; it would be pointless. Ragnok misunderstood him, for he was not underplaying their powers, he just knew his own strengths well enough to be confident in his capacity to protect any offspring he might have.

Probably noticing that nothing else would be added, the Goblin in front of him moved on, grabbing the next page.

"From now on I think it's all fairly boring news," He stated. "The Peverell family never developed any family magic, but they do, however, have veela blood in their lineage. If you choose the quarter veela for this title, is possible that any children born from this union will be — at least — half veela."

"That won't happen, as she never bothered to show up for the first meeting. Probably left as soon as she realized what she was signing for — not that I blame her," Harry shrugged.

"Really? And you never bothered to find out why she never showed up?" Ragnok looked perplexed, as though he had just said an incredible weird sentence.

"No, why would I? If she wants to have a resemble of an ordinary life, who am I to blame her?" Harry explained, shaking his head. "Gabrielle is so young..."

"If you say so..." He didn't look convinced but moved on nevertheless. "A good amount of money and some books, that's everything."

"Good, perhaps that's the only one I'll keep," Harry joked, accepting the file.

The Goblin rolled his eyes, unimpressed. He looked at the last file left for a while, reading it's information.

"Dumbledore left you a single vault, mostly empty of gold," Ragnok softly landed the pages back on his desk. "He withdrew almost all his money in the war, and unfortunately died before he could win his deserved award. The Ministry does not make deposits to the line, but rather to the individual, which means his prize was incorporated back into the govern vaults."

"I figured," Harry admitted. "It does, however, makes my life a little more complicated."

"Yes, it does. It's a Minor house, with no proprieties or money," The head-director agreed. "There are books though, loads of them. Some he brought back with him from his many trips around the world, so you might want to see them yourself — some might be worth a considerable amount of money."

"I don't think Hermione would be very pleased with me if I sold any of these books," Harry said. "She's thinking of having them all transferred to our house, while the vaults are still all in my hand alone."

"If you do take the books out of Dumbledore's vault, you'll be giving a virtually empty title to one of your brides," Ragnok pointed out, not questioning for a moment Hermione's decision to take hundreds of books home with her. It certainly wasn't an abnormal behavior for her.

"I'm aware, but to be honest, we all know the books won't make a real difference. The girl will either want to marry me even if it's to belong to a Minor house or she won't, that's the reality."

"Considering that a few of the contestants are, indeed, from Minor houses themselves, it would be a hypocrisy to reject another equal title," Ragnok considered.

"Well, despite any possible hypocrisy, I'll probably transfer some money anyway. I don't want this sort of differences to reach public acknowledgment. The last thing I need is a hoard of angry folks disputing over my insensibility to the girls."

"I see," He acknowledged. "Do you have questions for me?"

"Yes, actually," Harry confirmed. "I'm still a bit confused by the concept of family magic. Why have I never hear of this? And how does it work, exactly?"

"Think of magic as a different sort of DNA code, only so much more complicated than that. A missing gene on a human body can be disfiguring or worse, magic, however, isn't so deterministic. Almost like a tapestry, it can be woven in lots of different ways," Ragnok said. "Each individual has his own tapestry that will define power, capacity, and abilities. Family magic can be thought as a recessive gene — if the father or mother has it, the child is more likely also to have it."

He paused for a second, as if envisioning the picture he was painting in his mind, before continuing with his explanation.

"But the point I'm trying to make is: also like a DNA, magic can be 'matched' in new ways sometimes — it's rare, absolutely. So rare indeed that most don't know it is possible. But, with that, new family magic can be created." Ragnok said. "Truth is, a case like yours is almost unheard of, as far as we know. You'll have all these family rings combined for the first time ever, and nobody knows how that will be manifested in your children. For all we know, they might bring new family magic forward."

"I sure hope not," He stated, shaking his head. "The last thing we need is that kind of exposure."

"Regardless," The head-director explained. "Your own magic will react after you marry all seven girls, and you may experience instability and bouts of power surge."

Harry blanched, feeling a shiver run down his spine.

"I'm unstable enough as it is," he said. "You know it. I don't think I'll be able to keep it on a leash if it becomes much wilder."

"You risk too much by carrying the elder wand, Lord Potter," Ragnok's voice took a reproaching tone. "Its power comes with a high price."

"It cannot be destroyed, and I can't allow it to fall into the hands of another."

"You are aware of your other options."

Harry was, in fact, aware of his incredibly unsavory choices. Burdening his girlfriends with his magic, however, seemed like a genuinely awful decision to make. Having foreign magic inside your body, trying unsuccessfully to blend with your own, was not a pleasant feeling — He knew it from personal experience.

"Do not forget that magic does not wield to its host; it needs to be forced into submission," Ragnok warned. "The more you practice, the more stable you'll be. If you don't wish to burden your loved ones, then you must master your ability to control your power."

"All previous carriers of the wand are dead," Harry pointed out, musing over his possibilities. "I'd have no place to start."

"You have been carrying it for years, what's your opinion?"

"The more I use it, the harder it becomes to control myself," He said. "I mostly use wandless magic in my everyday life, but most complex, offensive spells still require me to use a wand. Thankfully I haven't had to use it in a long time since Hermione stopped training with me."

"Why not use a different wand and keep the elder wand in your house?" The head director asked.

"Ever since my original one was destroyed, no other wand has bonded with me," Harry explained. "And I've tried hundreds upon hundreds. Olivander crafted one especially for me, but even that wasn't successful. My only choice is to use this cursed wand."

"I've seen you performing some rather impressive magic with said cursed wand," Ragnok pointed out, perhaps not impressed with his dismissal of a historical object.

"Yes, it's amazing. I'm not denying, okay? But it concerns me," Harry admitted. "For the time being, I'm able to control my magic with a certain amount of ease — only moments of great emotion demand more considerable effort. But I have no idea how it will react to this number of marriages, honestly. Sometimes I wish magical weddings weren't so binding."

"Some creatures ceremonies — like elves and veelas — are much more binding than the one humans use. They tie their souls together once they find their soulmates, and cannot separate under any circumstances."

"Thank you for that horrible image," Harry blanched. "If that's all, I think I'll go now. I have hungry girlfriends waiting for some curry back home, and this conversation is depressing me."

Ragnok smiled, shifting from serious to carefree with an ease that never failed to annoy Harry.

"Very well," He said, watching as Harry shrunk all the papers he would take home with him. "If you have any doubts about any information in these, be sure to let me know."

"I will don't worry," Harry assured, getting up from his chair. "Thank you for your time and counseling, honestly."

The Goblin only nodded his head softly, accepting the appreciation wordless. With that, Harry turned his back and walked out of the room, knowing the girls would be waiting impatiently for the information he had just been previous to.

.................................................................

"We need to choose, Hermione," Harry said, hitting his hands on the table. "It will be the uttermost irresponsibility to leave it for the girls to decide among their selves."

The discussion was going in circles for what felt like an eternity — never reaching any solution. After Harry explained to them everything Ragnok had told him, the conversation naturally went to how the titles would be handled — which was where they still were hours later, with no prediction of a solution being found.

"I understand, Harry, I do. But how do you propose we decide who will have which name? Draw straws?" she mocked, moving to get a glass of water.

"We could choose randomly," Ginny suggested. "It would be the most impartial decision."

"I don't like that; it's their lives too," Hermione insisted. "They shouldn't join this relationship with no say whatsoever over their own future names, which they'll have to pass on to their children!"

"Really? And you think they'll choose with no interest in the money and the vaults?" Harry mocked.

"I'm not naive, don't offend me. We all have interests and ambitions — it doesn't have to be necessarily bad. We're handpicking these girls, Harry; we cannot pretend otherwise. If after all we've researched on them, we have found nothing wrong, what's so terrible if Flora Carrow wanted the Slytherin vaults because they have potion books?"

For a moment the three of them remained in silence, pondering over her words. Ginny, after a few minutes, broke the silence:

"I cannot agree, but cannot dispute your logic either. I'd feel awkward just handing the decision over to them."

"So, perhaps we should reach a middle ground," Hermione suggested. "We're arguing these whole time over the titles, but we haven't mentioned which we'd give to whom. If the decision is unanimous between ourselves, then maybe we should consult with Blaise and Neville as well."

"Look at that! If it isn't Hermione Granger suggesting we ask Blaise Zabini for advice," Ginny joked, smiling widely.

Hermione rolled her eyes and waved her off.

"We only saw some of those girls once," The red-headed began. "But maybe we can make our personal lists of favorites at the moment, and the respective titles we would want them to have."

"You know," Harry said, accio'ing some paper and ink to follow Ginny's suggestion. "Hermione already stated she wants the Black name, but you could change yours if you wanted to — now that the option was presented. The Le Fey title is stronger than the Potter's, and the Gryffindor vaults are richer..."

Harry let his voice die out, seeing the displeased expression his girlfriend had stamped across her face. Apparently, his suggestion wasn't a welcome one.

He looked at Hermione for some clue, but she looked slightly amused, which was no help at all.

"Don't be ridiculous," The youngest Weasley said. "I know your parent's name means more to you than all those other titles — you just found out you had — put together. If I had to choose another, the only one I'd accept would be Sirius', and that is already very well selected — so let's not speak of this crap again."

Hermione caressed Ginny's jeans-clad thigh, looking pleased with the compliment.

"You're such a charmer."

"I try," She said, shrugging carelessly.

"Well, I had to ask," Harry said, handing the papers to each of them. "Can't say I'm not pleased though."

"Of course you are pleased! Because of me, the next generation of Potters will be beautiful, smart and good at Quidditch."

"A lot of people think I'm pretty good at Quidditch, my love," Harry responded, rolling his eyes.

"Hm," Ginny exhaled. " You're okay, maybe Hermione's children will be able to ride a broom without panicking."

"I do not panic! I have the ability, I simply don't see the appeal of it," Hermione denied, stomping her foot like a child.

"Anyway," Harry interrupted before Ginny opened her mouth. "Let's get this done, shall we?"

"Yes, let's do this," Ginny agreed, letting the matter drop and, instead, moving her hand to write down her first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this chapter came a lot sooner than usual — I hope this pleases you all. Next chapter is almost done, but will probably take a little longer to be uploaded, so bear with me.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you all thought, okay?


	18. The Problem of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in the same month? Now I'm just spoiling you all.
> 
> As always, a big thank you to all those who take their time to review this story. I love when I read reviews that allow me to notice you've been interacting with the story and its characters.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm just a poor soul, wandering across the seas of fanfiction. Nothing belongs to me.

Harry didn't notice them. He was passing by, with the intention of buying a dress for Hermione, like he had promised he would. The ministry ball was quickly approaching, and he didn't want to suffer through it all alone. However, his plans were shortly interrupted.

He heard his name being shouted by a familiar voice and halted his steps. When he looked in the direction the voice came from he faced a casual Bistro in which every single person was looking at him. No doubts because Blaise's voice had reached all individuals on the planet earth.

He rolled his eyes to himself and walked to the table the Italian was sharing with his future wife, Daphne Greengrass. They both sat across each other at an outside table, enjoying the rare England sun.

"Thank you for that," Harry said to Blaise, making sure his face expressed how much he liked to have his name shouted on the street.

"Why, Harry, you're very welcome," Blaise smiled, unaffected by his displeasure. "Sit with us."

"Daphne," Harry finally greeted, "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"You don't have to be so formal, Harry," Daphne said, gesturing to the chair next to her.

Harry chose to keep to himself his observations of how weird it was for her to say something about informality when she was always so damn proper. Instead, he sat on his designated chair.

As soon as he did so, Daphne moved her own chair slightly so that they were close enough to be touching — surprising him again.

Now, Harry was no stranger to that sort of situation. Quite the opposite, in fact. As he grew older, women began to be much more active in their pursuit of him. Being both wealthy and famous meant he had to put up with all sorts of attention, and Harry learned to tolerate it.

Being in a relationship meant very little to most of his fans, so, over time, some reactions became almost instinctual for him in those situations. Usually, Harry would scoot his chair further away and continue as though nothing had happened.

However, before he could make a fool of himself and thoroughly embarrass Daphne, his brain caught up with what was going on. Of course she was moving closer to him, they were supposed to be in love. In love enough to have a baby sooner rather than later. As a refined pureblood heir, that action would probably be a bold enough move to stake her claim on him.

So, moving against every natural defense mechanism he had, Harry allowed his body to relax and reached forward to grab her hand, squeezing it in reassurance. He knew his choice was the correct one because she too relaxed a little, pausing to smile his way.

While Blaise and Daphne continued to speak with the same ease as before, Harry took the time to study his fiancee discretely. Her right hand, which he currently held, was soft and smooth. Her ring finger adorned with her family ring, the Greengrass crest shining softly.

Harry's gaze went up, following Daphne's creamy arm to her elegant neck, where the pale skin allowed him to see her veins rushing with blood beneath it and, for a wild moment, he permitted his mind to picture what it would feel like to reach closer and kiss it until her neck had a purple mark in it. _His_ mark.

Would Daphne throw her head back, exposing more of said neck to him, while simultaneously closing her eyes in pleasure? Or, more importantly, did he want her to?

His wavering thoughts were interrupted when the very woman he had been daydreaming about nudged his leg to call for his attention.

"Harry?" She had an amused expression, which probably had to do with his inability to follow their conversation. "Blaise was talking to you."

"What?" He asked, turning to face his friend.

"Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the livings," Blaise mocked, also very amused. "Are you trying to make it to tomorrow's front page? 'Cause you don't need to be so obvious, a reporter has already taken photos from you two."

"Don't be ridiculous, I was only thinking, perhaps you should try it sometime," Harry denied, surprised that he never noticed the reporter passing them by. It wasn't something that usually escaped his notice.

Daphne laughed — a low, cultured sound Harry never heard before. If it was because of the displeased face Blaise adopted or because she wanted to appear more comfortable around him than she was, he couldn't tell.

"I asked if you choose a surname for Daphne," The Italian said, sending a dark glare Daphne's way.

"It's complicated," Harry sighed, turning to face the girl in question. "We chose a name we've agreed would be more appropriated, but first we'd like to hear your opinion on the matter."

From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Blaise's eyes widening in surprise before he quickly morphed his expression into a more neutral look. It wasn't difficult to imagine why he looked shocked; Blaise knew how much he did not want to hand the decision over to the girls. Daphne, on the contrary, was much more successful in her accomplishment of a blank stare — after all, she wasn't called the Ice Queen for no reason.

"And if my choice differs from yours?" was her inquiry.

"Then we'll try to decide together, and reach some sort of middle ground. Perhaps call Neville and Blaise for an unbiased opinion."

"I'm never unbiased; No Slytherin ever is," Blaise pointed out.

"Yes, we're all counting on Neville to be the reasonable one," Harry deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Regardless, have you thought on which title you favor?"

"I have," She said, wearing a calculating look. "I believe the Dumbledore title would suit me well."

It took all of Harry's hard-earned self-control not to let his mouth drop in surprise. Surely she joked? No way she, who had four others more prestigious titles and had the privilege to pick first, would want to be a part of a Minor house.

"What?" He finally asked, trying to control his voice. "You do realize that Dumbledore's vault is nearly empty, right? You'd be getting an empty title."

"Harry," Daphne said, turning to face him face to face. "I have no use for money or a prestigious last name, okay? My family has provided me with both. What I do need, however, is for the public to not perceive me as an opportunistic who got herself impregnated as quickly as possible only to secure a prominent title."

At that, Blaise smiled a little, pleased with her reasoning, although Harry was yet to understand it completely.

"You are the Greengrass heir," He said. "And your younger sister is married to Malfoy — arguably the most prestigious pureblood family in Britain. Won't it be questioned if you find yourself at the end of the proverbial food chain?"

"In a way, it will," Daphne agreed, nodding her head. "But my priority right now is to do everything I can to protect my baby and to make sure you finish this whole process of The Announcement without stepping on too many toes. My reputation can be quickly regained later."

"I don't want you to feel as though you have to choose this house for protection only," Harry argued, trying to convey his feelings. "I'm signing this contract as a formality, most of all, and you should know that. I have promised to protect both you and your baby, and I won't go back on my word. After all, you'll be my wife pretty soon."

She said nothing for a moment, silently digesting his words. Harry kept remembering himself that she had just come out of an abusive relationship, which meant she probably wasn't ready to trust in his words alone. It didn't mean that he wouldn't say them, just that it might take her a while to actually believe any of it.

"I appreciate your concern, I do, but I'm certain of my choice," Her words were dry, but her expression was somewhat softer.

"Okay," Harry accepted her answer, knowing that was all he was going to get from her at the moment. "I gotta admit, I wasn't expecting you to be so candid."

"I'm not usually this honest, but this is a particular situation — one which is vital to me. About everything pertaining our contract and my baby you can expect me always to say what's on my mind."

"About everything else?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.

"My thoughts are still my own," She confirmed, a smirk settled into place, before she adding. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to go to the toilet."

They both got up when she did, sitting back only when she walked away.

"I have no idea what to think of what just happened," Harry confessed, looking at Blaise for help.

"I'm happy she took the most difficult house out of your hands," The Italian said. "While it is true that it will help her in the short term, it also means she's trying to help you as much as she can — in a Slytherin manner, of course."

"It's the Slytherin part which concerns me."

"Look, get real, you're in a position of power here. Daphne depends on your name to protect her baby, and you have only to lose by helping her. Have no doubts, she's hipper aware of it," Blaise explained in a rush. "If her situation weren't so delicate she would've never stood for Ginny's demand for a fidelity clause — it was insulting on a personal level, and she hasn't forgotten it. But she's ready to sign the contract when you are, what does that tell you?"

"That she's desperate?" Harry guessed, shrugging.

"That she's showing how grateful she is by not picking a fight with your girlfriend. Daphne knows that's what matters the most to you."

"And this unannounced public claim?" He asked, just to see what the Italian would say.

"It's necessary, and a little shameful that you waited for her to make the first move. You're signing this contract too, which means adhering to all it's parts — in your case, making the public believe you're both in love."

"Public demonstrations of affection aren't my usual thing, but you're right, I did agree to it. I waited for her to make the first move because I thought she might be more comfortable that way."

"Well, I believe you were right in that assumption," Blaise agreed. "But you needn't be nervous about big actions of love. It doesn't have to be something huge, quite the contrary — the more subtle you are, the better. Ask her to dinner in a hidden restaurant, and allow someone to take a picture while pretending not to notice."

"You think I should invite the girls too, or should it be just the two of us?" Harry asked.

"If you go alone, it will look like her involvement with you is not approved." Blaise pointed out. "As though you're hiding her."

Harry rubbed his forehead, truly beginning to see the intricacies of his situation and wishing this process was so damn complicated.

"The next meeting is tomorrow, are you ready?" The Italian interrupted his thoughts.

"Fuck no," Harry said. "At the rate in which this is progressing, Hermione will probably lock me in my room and forbid me from going."

"Jealous?" Blaise questioned, sipping his drink.

"You know it," He shrugged, not really concerned with the possibility.

"And, knowing you as I do, she'll probably have no problems in keeping you all to herself."

"What can I say, mate, if my girlfriend wants to show possessiveness, I'm only too happy to oblige," Harry said, getting up when he saw Daphne returning.

Harry pulled her chair softly for her to sit, musing over the situations in his head. The second meeting would be in the next day, and he would probably spend most of it with Daphne, trying to make everyone believe he was starting to fall in love with her. The problem was, he had no idea if he could ever love another the same way he did with Ginny and Hermione.

Only time would tell if she would ever mean something to him. Unfortunately, time was the only thing they did not have, and perhaps before he could even figure out what he thought of her, they'd have a child together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is still not properly structured, so it'll not come as quickly as this one. Have a little patience with me, alright?


	19. The Second Meeting, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up? _Baby, I'm back here._
> 
> Part 1 of the second meeting is right here, and I hope it satisfies all your cravings for a more approachable Daphne. Don't forget to tell me what you think of it, okay?
> 
> As I always have and hope to always will, I'd like to say: Thank you! You have all been incredible to me and this story. Seriously, I couldn't be more proud than I am.
> 
> Disclaimer: Sad truth of the day: I'm not the owner of anything related to the Harry Potter franchise, it all belongs to someone else.

"Think today will go smoothly?" Harry asked, grimacing while he entered their enormous closet.

"Define smoothly," Ginny required, "As long as nobody tries to kill us, or anything like that, I'm counting as a victory."

"You're setting the bar so low, my love," He pointed out, picking a gray suit randomly. "Think this will do?"

She analyzed it for a moment, before shaking her head in denial. "Pansy said light-grey isn't suitable for night events."

"Black?" He then proposed, selecting another one from the rack.

"It should be safe enough," The redheaded witch shrugged, also grabbing a black dress. "Think I can get away with wearing flats?"

Harry snorted, already picturing Hermione's face if Ginny chose to leave the house in an inappropriate pair of shoes.

" _Right,_ " She said, shedding her bath-robe and moving to slip her dress on. "I swear one of these days I'll fall and die, and Hermione will have no one to blame but herself."

"No you won't," Harry assured, moving automatically to zip her up. When one had two girlfriends, one of the things to learn was how — and more importantly, when — to help with the clothes. "But you do have my most sincere sympathies for having to wear the death trap, although you always look amazing in them."

"Whatever, I look amazing barefooted too. Is a pain in the ass to stay all night in these shoes, even with some spells," She turned to kiss him quickly before moving to the back.

The back part of the closet — if it could even be called that — was the reason they needed so much space. Shelves upon shelves of shoes filled the walls, displaying their girlfriend's obsession perfectly. Countless shoes of all imaginable brands available to someone who could navigate both the magical and muggle world.

In a funny twist of fate, both girls wore the same shoe size, so they got to share — even though Ginny's own stuff fitted perfectly on a single shelf, the rest was all Hermione's — which meant the youngest Weasley had no excuses to give when it came to appropriate shoes.

Before moving in with her, Harry never knew that many types of footwear even existed, but somehow Hermione's collection only grew.

"Are you both ready to go?" The woman of his thoughts entered the room, already dressed and putting an earring on.

"Almost," He assured, fixing his tie in front of the mirror. "Why are we going so late today?"

"Because Neville wants to show a new flower he brought back from one of his recent trips, and it only blooms at midnight," she said. "His garden is really something to behold; perhaps he's trying to plan something romantic. Merlin knows Blaise wouldn't know romance if it hit him in the goddamn face."

He laughed, amused by her continuous irritation with Zabini. "I hope he isn't planning on playing anymore matchmaker than he already is."

"Is there even a higher level here?" Ginny asked, looking ready to go. "I don't think it gets much more interfering than picking the girls you'll marry."

Harry couldn't agree. If there was one thing he learned, was that there was always more to happen at the next corner.

..................................................

When Harry and the girls arrived at Neville's place a few minutes later, Susan discretely told him of Daphne's early arrival, as well as her current location. Knowing earliness wasn't a cultivated habit among purebloods, he felt a sudden interest to know what the Ice Queen was doing on her own. And so, with a half-assed excuse, he went in the opposite direction of the ballroom.

It became evident, as soon as he stepped into the hall, where the soft piano music invaded all the space, what she was doing to occupy her time. It was a soft song, with a steady rhythm to it - a classical piece, Harry could tell.

"I didn't know you could play," Harry murmured as approached her, not wanting to disturb the quietness that permeated the room after she hit the last note. "But then again, I do feel like I know next to nothing about you."

Daphne kept gazing at the keys in front of her, never turning to face him and, when she spoke, her voice was somewhat melancholic.

"My mother said every woman should know how to play the piano. Chopin was her guilty pleasure."

"What's yours?" He dared to ask.

"Peanut butter watermelon sandwich," She supplied, finally looking at him and smiling.

"With bread?" Harry questioned, trying to conjure a picture in his mind.

"No," She said, making the hand gestures while she spoke. "Watermelon, peanut butter, and more watermelon."

It was an overall disturbingly cute scene, although Harry knew for sure she would not appreciate it if he said so.

"I see," was what he chose to say instead. "That's not nearly as fancy as Chopin, I'm afraid."

"What can I say, that's why it's a guilty pleasure. My mother set the bar far too high."

"Fair enough," He said, moving to sit on top of the piano. "Could you play something else?"

She waited for him to settle down before she moved her fingers on the keys. Harry understood her a little better at that moment. Daphne wasn't a verbal person; her communication happened mainly by gestures - which was just fine by him. The sound of the piano was nicer than mindless chatter anyway.

.....................

"Will you not socialize with the other contestants?" She finally asked, after several more songs.

In the distant, Harry could hear chatter. The other girls were already there, but he had no wish to leave his place.

"I don't think so," He shrugged. "Perhaps later. Tell me, which ones would you pick if you were in my position?"

"You ask difficult questions," Daphne stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I have complicated matters to settle," Harry explained, unapologetic.

"I'm aware." Her voice was somewhat curious when she added. "Why should I answer such compromising question?"

"I could give you plenty of logical reasons, but you did say you'd be straightforward about anything pertaining The Announcement."

"So I did," She agreed, turning to face the room filled with people moving around and speaking to each other. What caught his attention, though, was the fact that her eyes lingered longer on some individuals than others. It was clear as day that she saw the same as he.

"You see some girls being favored already." It wasn't a question; Harry learned through the years to see the subtle signs even the most private people gave off.

When Harry took on the role of being both the Black and the Potter Lord right after Hogwarts, he finally realized how much time and effort it took to maintain a wealthy stable House. At the time, he had neither the experience or the information for the job. His challenge was complicated, because both houses needed so much work, after more than a decade of abandonment — the Black even more so. The Goblins had done what they could, but it was, unfortunately, like dusting a grain of sand in the desert.

The Blacks were everywhere in the wizarding world, owning several businesses and with plenty of partnerships with both brands and patents. It took Harry years to separate the clean business from the not so clean ones — which he withdrew all investments from promptly. Furthermore, proprieties had to be cleaned off of curses and dark artifacts alike — something that took eight months and a team of twenty curse breakers to do.

The Potters, he found out, on the other hand, had been terrible at managing their money. It had all been cast aside, delegated to two squib lawyers who had clearance to make almost all choices for them — and, when Harry met the older than God individuals, he immediately ended the ridiculous lease. When he saw the number of investments they had done in the muggle world Harry almost fainted. Apparently, in a rush to make money, they placed their bets on every single company they saw coming up — not even pausing to choose an area of interest. Harry couldn't complain too much though because somehow it made him more money than it cost him.

It was a huge mess, nevertheless, one he was still dealing with alongside Ragnok. A lot of paperwork, that's what it was.

The proprieties were empty and dirty, but clean and quickly dealt with. His father had separated a single vault to use on an everyday basis, with had only money and some jewelry — the others he never even glanced at — although he had a war to concern himself with, so Harry could understand how paperwork and politics may have sounded like a waste of time.

However, it meant Harry had to figure it all out by himself. Including how to take his place at the Wizengamot as a Lord of two houses, vote for proposals, and all the political bullshit wizards insisted on. It made him appreciate Lucius Malfoy, even if only a little bit — say what you wanted about the man, but he played the game better than most and had been a genius at finances. He knew Draco had a tough job filling the man's shoes now he had too.

In the end, after too many sections in which grown man tried to lie to his face, in an attempt to win his favor, he had learned to read people's face. Being a famous political person made him very wary of other's intention, which, in turn, molded him into a careful individual. War did not change how politics was made. One was either ahead or behind the game, and Harry knew exactly where he wanted to be.

Which brought him to the present moment, where Daphne was discretely observing the conversations happening, trying to decipher the relationships beginning to emerge and analyze the one she thought were fortuitous.

She inclined her head, trying to play it down. "It's too early to tell, but one can guess, right?"

"Don't," Harry almost demanded, figuring it was better she learned to deal with him sooner rather than later. "It will bode well for our relationship if you don't lie to my face."

Surprise crossed her face. Briefly, her eyes widening at his commanding tone. But she didn't apologize; he never expected her to.

"Blaise did say you had a Slytherin interior wrapped inside this good boy Gryffindor exterior," She commented, almost complimentary. "Yes, I can see. As can you, I suppose."

"Of course," He agreed, choosing to let the previous subject go. "Attraction is instantaneous. It's impossible to put so many people in the same place and not see some sparks fly."

"Is that what's happening between you and the Lovegood heir?" Daphne questioned, raising her perfectly manicured eyebrow.

Harry 1 x Daphne 1.

Damn her, there was no way to answer that without incriminating himself further, and she was no doubt aware of that. No willing to give her that satisfaction, he shrugged, not giving a response.

She smirked, pleased with herself for having him in a corner. Her overall posture changed, morphing into a more relaxed stance.

She exhaled, "Are you considering Blaise's sister?"

"I'm considering all girls, but she's not among my preferences, no. Why?"

"She's somewhat... unhinged, I must say. Someone who enjoys the limelight," Daphne said, giving him a pointed look. It was obvious she wanted him to understand her position and, fortunately for her, he did.

Blaise was one of her closest friends, and she obviously didn't wish to speak poorly of his sister but felt the need to warn him that she may like his fame more than she would all else. He appreciated her warning.

"I see," He gave her a nod, letting her know the message was received. "As I said, she's not among the ones I see myself or my girls choosing."

"I figured Granger wouldn't be in a rush to share any family with Blaise."

"Hermione," Harry insisted. "She won't be a Granger for much longer. And she's not. In fact, it surprised me when she approved Alessa in the first place. Although she is not even close to being the weirdest one in this room."

"Yes, Zabini, Carrow, Krum, Dolohov..." She trailed off. "Big names. Big, surprising names."

"You are, of course, aware I had no say in this arrangement. Can't say it displeases me though," There, let her make of that what she will.

.....................................................

After Pansy called Daphne to help her with the cards, Harry took his time looking at the room, trying to gauge its overall feel. She would probably take some time to be back, so that gave him a moment to see the groups forming and changing.

On the odd poker table — a clear transfiguration attempt —, Ginny, Alessia, Blaise, Pansy — with Daphne by her side —, Luna, Katie, and Demelza all looked heavily focused on their game, talking to each other in what appeared to be a teasing manner. Ginny, who was seated right in the middle, between Luna and Blaise, looked right in her element, calling the shots and laughing at a joke Demelza told.

Neville and Susan, on the other side of the room, were listening intensely at what Carrow had to say, alongside Padma and Lisa Krum. In contrast to the other group, though, they shared the relaxed vibe that a good conversation often provided.

At the bar, sitting by themselves were Fay Dunbar and Tracey Davis. They were sharing a bottle of wine and laughing at what appeared to be a good, juicy gossip. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The thought that slowly crept up on him was that the only two people missing from the room were Hermione and Vasilisa Dolohov. Somehow Harry had the absolute certainty that both girls were together at a place in the house, which meant one of the two: either Hermione finally gathered the courage to confront her past, or Dolohov was ambushing his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little cliffhanger! Don't kill me.


	20. The Second Meeting, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the second meeting is here, and it's big. Not too early, not too late. I'm finally getting to the point where I can write with a good enough frequency, which means that as long as it remains as it is the chapters should come at a regular pace.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm the owner of nothing. Everything belongs to Warner Bros., J. K. Rowling, etc.

Eavesdropping was certainly unpolite. Harry was all too aware of how it felt to be spied on by others. And, knowing how awful it was to have zero privacy regarding his personal matters, he tried to respect people's space as much as he could. However, the situation was far from usual, and Harry wanted to know what was being said more than he cared for his own principles.

So, casting his moral aside, Harry hid behind a pillar outside the entrance of the bathroom — where the girls were discussing — and used the latest Extendable Ears the twins always shoved in his pockets. They always said it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. Perhaps they did have a point there.

The moment he placed it in his ears, the conversation became clear, as though they were speaking right next to his body.

"Afraid?" The sultry voice, which definitely didn't belong to his girlfriend, asked in a daring tone.

"Of you? I don't think so," Hermione denied, and if Harry didn't know any better, he might have believed her.

Harry was aware that Hermione could be a pretty good liar until pressed against the metaphorical or literal wall. Vasilisa didn't seem to be one to shy away from confrontations. If she had to push Hermione, she would.

"I almost believe you," Vasilisa said, and Harry heard footsteps. "If only you didn't shiver any time I come near you."

"Well, considering you have been this near me only one time — and that's at this exact second — I think your assumptions are rather unfounded," Hermione said emphatically. A strong front before she caved, Harry predicted.

What he didn't know was whether to interrupt or not.

Vasilisa was murmuring something, but it was so softly he couldn't hear. With that, he almost stepped forward, until Hermione's voice stopped him.

"How dare you?!" Hermione cried out, incandescent. "We have nothing! Not that it's any of your business in the first place."

What had Dolohov whispered to Hermione to piss her off so quickly? Better yet, who did she imply Hermione had something with?

"So you accept jewelry from people who mean nothing to you? Or is she a special kind of nothing?"

"Ugh, you... That's just a... Who do you think..." Hearing Hermione at loss of words was a surprise, something that froze Harry immediately. The golden girl did not stutter. Ever. If there was one thing Hermione Granger was brilliant at was with words.

Who gave her jewelry? The question remained, although it wasn't difficult to imagine who that might be.

"Fuck you!" Hermione finally spoke, cursing Dolohov in another surprising move. Another one of those things Harry didn't associate with her.

Apparently, his surprise wasn't shared, however, because Dolohov just laughed.

"Is that a proposition?" She said, suggestively.

"Please, don't be pathetic. You're disgusting," His girlfriend spat out the words. "Just because romance is something you don't understand or respect, doesn't mean it's the same for everybody else. You have said your piece, may I leave?"

"I understand romance all too well, Miss Granger, don't delude yourself. You're the one stepping on grounds you misunderstand, as I hear you do quite often. Not once have I stopped you from walking away — if you wish to leave, far from me to stop you, but beware of how others will see your decision when you step back into the room."

Once again silence followed, and Harry almost expected Hermione to leave the room. But he forgot the most prominent feature of her, one that couldn't be overstated: Hermione was curious as fuck.

"What decision?" She asked, ignoring all the rest.

"The necklace you wear is an heirloom of the Krum family — and not just any heirloom. Nadia Krum received that necklace on the day her father signed her betrothal agreement, and as a sign of her loyalty, she wore it every day. Until today," Vasilisa spoke calmly. "It represents her intentions regarding you. A very bold move on her part."

"That can't be true. Perhaps you are confounding it with another necklace," Hermione denied vigorously.

"Don't be naive, Granger, it doesn't become you. Purebloods are never above being ruthless to get what they want, and your little lover is from a very dark family, no matter what Viktor Krum may have told you. She knows exactly what she wants," Dolohov didn't sugar coat it. "I'm not making any mistakes; you're being branded."

"And you know all about dark families, right?" The venomous words dripped from Hermione's mouth, and Harry knew an equally offending expression was stamped on her face.

Harry had heard enough; he entered the room fast enough to see Vasilisa rearranging her own surprised expression.

"Are we okay here, ladies?" He spoke, already zooming on Hermione's neck, where the infamous necklace rested — a teardrop ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds.

His own anger rose at sight.

"Yes, absolutely. We only chatted Lord Potter, nothing of importance. If you'll excuse me," Dolohov said, giving him a curt nod, before walking away.

Harry waited until she was out of hearing range before he turned to face his girlfriend.

"Take that off," He demanded, extending his hand.

"Harry, that's not-" She tried to say.

"Now!" Harry wasn't having it.

She looked pretty pissed at his commanding tone, but reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace anyway. She placed it in his waiting hand and raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for him to explain his actions.

"Are you out of your freaking mind?" He began, shoving the ridiculous piece in his pocket. "A girl you know for less than a month gives you a fucking piece of jewelry, and you rush to put it around your neck? You know what it means in the wizarding world, even if it's not a family heirloom. You're supposed to be the brightest of your generation, for God's sake! I can feel her magic in the necklace, which means you can too."

He stopped and waited for her to defend herself. Hermione opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"So? Will you say nothing?" Harry pressed. "Were you about to parade in front of all the people with this huge stone hanging from your neck?"

"I...it was a present," She said, unconvincingly. "Lisa gave it to me... and it didn't occur to me..."

"That it was a stupid move to accept it so readily?"

"Yes! Luna gave Ginny a necklace, and you thought it was acceptable!" Hermione said, some of her previous anger returning.

"How can you even compare it?" Harry questioned, throwing a silent mufiliato around them. "First of all, we know Luna. We fought beside her many times, and she risked her life for both you and me without thinking twice. It was an old agreement between her and Ginny — a harmless gift that was neither jewelry nor an heirloom. We know what Luna's intentions are, and we can trust them. Can you say the same about Krum?"

"She's Viktor sister," She pointed out, as though it was proof enough.

"Is that supposed to convince me? You exchange letters with a boyfriend from school, and suddenly we are expected to trust his sister intentions?"

"Is this all because you're jealous?" Hermione questioned, anger clearly blinding her.

"Jealousy? You can't be fucking serious right now!" He lost it. "You're the one who is constantly jealous of every girl Ginny, and I interact, since the beginning. I can't believe you think this is about that. I care not that you feel attracted to Lisa, truly, but you're blinding yourself to reality."

She said nothing again, and Harry felt himself deflate.

"Whatever, this isn't the time nor place for this. We'll talk later," Harry said, canceling the spell and walking away.

He had some score to settle with Lisa Krum.

.........................................................

"Dammit," Harry cursed under his breath, as he walked away.

That shit was just another complication he couldn't afford right now.

"Problems?" A familiar voice asked, startling him from his angry thoughts.

Luna was leaned against the wall, a knowing look stamped on her face. It was hard to tell if she heard what happened before he remembered to use a silencing charm or if she was just guessing based on his previous curse word.

"I'm not sure yet," He said. "I hope not."

"Sometimes, those who are the most academically intelligent, are the ones with the biggest trouble regarding matters of the heart," Luna said, in a particular Luna-like tone.

"So I've noticed," He murmured, stopping next to her.

"I'm sorry this is turning out to be such a complicated mess," She said, reaching forward to touch his chest.

"It's not so bad. I thought it would be worse, actually," He was forced to admit while grabbing her small wrist and holding it there.

"I'm afraid the worst is yet to come," She grimaced lightly, probably knowing the news would displease him.

"Of course," He rolled his eyes. "And I suppose you're not going to share your assumptions with me, right?"

Her other hand caressed his face; her fingers were slowly tracing his cheek.

"I just did," was her answer.

Harry knew that wasn't a complete truth, but neither was it a whole lie — that's how Luna worked. He wouldn't push, though; it would be pointless. She shared what she wanted and when she felt like it.

The blond woman in front of him smiled as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about and it amused her. The hand caressing his face moved to poke his forehead.

"Your imagination will be your worst enemy, if you let it," She professed, moving closer to invade all of his personal space.

Suddenly her breathing was mixing with his, and the closeness allowed Harry to see all the nuances of her dreamy blue eyes.

After that, Harry had no wish to carry on with the conversation. He leaned even closer, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth, then releasing it slowly. When he did, she leaned up into him for a slow, sensual kiss.

Kissing Luna was unlike kissing either of his girlfriends. But Harry wasn't the most experienced man on Earth when it came to women in the first place. Not counting Ginny or Hermione, he kissed a total of three girls: Cho, the most awkward fucking experience of his life. Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw he never spoke with before a game of truth or dare Lavander insisted they all played — he had been drunk like hell and could barely remember what it felt like to touch her. And lastly, he kissed Luna, in his fifth year — at a broom closet — late at night.

It was different now; Harry could feel her. He could kiss Luna almost lazily — not in a rush — enjoying the feel of her hands caressing his back, and smelling her signature scent while it invaded his brain.

There was no unknown attraction or lust to address — which had filled him back at Hogwarts. Now he knew just what his feelings were, and was comfortable enough in his own skin to show it. Harry could take his time, simply being there.

"Thanks for the letter," She whispered, in between kisses.

"We still have much to decide," He whispered back, already knowing it would be a pain in the ass to do so.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and under his jacket, hugging his body tight.

"I know you're worried about telling the girls, but it's like I've said, there's no sense in worrying if we're not doing anything about it yet."

"You know me," He pointed out.

"I do," She said, smiling. "Harry Potter: The worrier."

"It's my thing," He explained. "Kinda like Hermione with her cleverness. But still, I'm surprisingly chilled about it."

"You are, indeed, with a pleasant lack of Nargles," She said, her eyes filled with mirth.

"Am I? How lucky," Harry said, biting the tip of her nose.

Her giggle filled the air, soft and carefree. Before he could enjoy it, though, another sound echoed in the distance.

Harry withdrew sharply, putting space between them while shaping his expression, seconds Pansy strolled into the corridor.

When she spotted them, Pansy stopped and looked. He had no doubts she was trying to make them uncomfortable, but Harry was more than used to dealing with Slytherins, so he just looked back and waited for her to say her piece.

"Neville is calling everyone to see the damn flower bloom, lovebirds," She finally said, clearly not getting the whole fuss about a plant.

"Oh, is it that late already?" Luna asked, animated. "The magical Autumn Crocus is an unmissable spectacle."

"I'm sure," Pansy mocked, wrinkling her pointy nose.

"Don't be so grumpy, Pansy, I'm sure there will be a more booze involved activity later," Harry joked, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "You'll survive until then."

"The things I have to put up with," She grumbled, theatrically. "Honestly."

Luna fell into step with them, walking beside Harry

"Who knows, you might even like it," She said, happily.

......................................................

They were all conjugated in front of a bunch of unopened flowers, waiting for something to happen. Not everyone was enjoying the wait, though. In fact, a lot of unspoken tension was going on around the group — some more surprising than others.

Harry noticed Hermione, standing silently next to Susan, her whole body excluding terseness. Krum, as expected, saw that, and looked in her direction every couple of minutes, seeming frustrated. Good, Harry thought, he would have to set her straight soon enough. Vasilisa stood alone, he also noticed, as always, sipping what appeared to be Scott.

But that wasn't all. Ginny also stood somewhat detached, biting her bottom lip in a nervous gesture he knew all too well. Blaise stood by her side, too close to be anything other than a clear show of support.

Which begged the question: What had he missed?

He had no time to figure it out because the Autumn Crocus bloomed suddenly. One second it was a small bud all wrapped around itself, the next it erupted into a massive pink flower. It was like nothing Harry ever saw in his life — an actual magical plant, glittering in the moonlight.

There were at least fifty flowers on Neville's garden, all opened and shining. A collective gasped emerged from them; even Neville looked in awe.

"Can we touch it?" Harry asked no one in particular, holding himself back from reaching to touch it instinctively.

"You could, but it would be the last thing you'd ever do," Luna answered. "Neville had to get special permission from the Minister to buy such a big batch of seeds. He's the only one to have such permit in England — not even Hogwarts plants it."

"I certainly understand the desire to have this," Harry said. "But isn't it dangerous to just leave it out here, in the open? Anyone could touch it."

"Harry, this is a private property. People can't just walk inside and grab a flower," Luna explained. "Besides, Neville put an-"

Whatever she said after Harry didn't listen because Tracy was stretching her body to reach the flower closest to her, almost in a daze. Harry never stopped to think about it, he just moved fast and placed his body in front of her, blocking her way.

"Maybe that's not the best idea," He said, grabbing her arm somewhat roughly.

She gasped in surprise, realizing how close he was.

"What-" She began, but Harry wasn't ready to talk. They were too close to the damn dangerous flowers.

"Step back," He ordered, releasing her arm.

She did, and Harry relaxed a little.

"Dammit Neville, this is fucked up," He complained, turning to face his host.

Only to find out he was very amused by the whole scene.

"You think this is funny?"

"No, Lord Potter, far from me to laugh at your highness," He mocked, giving a short bow.

Harry pursed his lips, annoyed at the inappropriate joke.

"What I was about to tell you before you decided to play hero, was that Neville had a protection dome above the flowers, Harry," Luna explained. "She wouldn't've been able to touch it."

"Don't worry," Tracy said, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I'm still grateful for the rescue, even if it was unnecessary. Thank you."

Of course Neville had the place secure, he wasn't an idiot. If Harry weren't so damn paranoid, he would have thought about it. And even though Tracy didn't perceive it for what it was, he knew it wouldn't escape others notice.

_Shit,_ he thought, _why wouldn't that day just be over already?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to hear what you're all thinking!


	21. The Many Mistakes I Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, fellas. I'm so fricking pumped about this chapter, for real, as it marks a new arch I've been waiting and planning for a while. Hope y'all like it.
> 
> Thanks again to everybody who's stuck around this long with this story. I gotta admit, some days I'm still blown away by the fact that there are people out there willing to read any of the stuff I write. Seriously.
> 
> Disclaimer: If I could, I would. However, I cannot own anything from the Harry Potter franchise, so please don't sue me.

Screaming.

That's what greeted the Zabini's when they floo'ed to the Potter residence on that Sunday morning. Harry was somehow distantly aware of their arrival, but couldn't seem to stop himself from screaming the next words at Hermione.

"You are delusional!" He yelled while waving his arms and pacing across the living room.

That wasn't the first time he had said those words since the beginning of that discussion. They had been walking in circles with the same argument since the meeting at Neville's house ended at 3 am. It began with a rational conversation, but had somehow quickly escalated to a full-on shouting match in less than twenty minutes — one they were still having at 6 am when Blaise and Pansy stepped inside their house.

Perhaps the tension between them had been too obvious, because Pansy never arrived that early on Sundays, no matter how important their discussion was.

"Stop being so damn stubborn, Harry, for the love of Merlin!" Hermione's voice was somewhat hoarse from all the screaming she'd done in the past hours.

"He's incapable of that," Blaise interrupted, announcing his presence to the girls.

"Zabini," Hermione suddenly turned, gritting his name out of her teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"Perhaps we could hear your shrill screams all the way from our residence," Pansy said, not looking disturbed by the less than stellar welcome she was receiving. "Or maybe we came to get a front row seat to this disturbing little fight."

"Oh, shut up, Pansy," The youngest Weasley said, her whole face morphed into an angry scowl. "Maybe you should just go fuc-"

"I told you we should've come earlier," Susan's voice interrupted the insulting sentence Ginny had been about to utter as she walked inside their house.

"What's this?" Harry asked, unimpressed. "I wasn't aware our personal problems had become public all of a sudden."

"Neville," Ginny greeted, in a relieved whisper, completely ignoring Harry's displeasure.

Neville smiled softly, moving to stand next to her in an automatic gesture they did with each other since Hogwarts. She leaned back and rested her torso on his side, taking comfort from his presence. Immediately some of the redness disappeared from Ginny's face, while she took some much needed deep breaths.

Harry still sometimes got surprised by how powerful their bond was. When he left to hunt for the Horcruxes, leaving Ginny behind had been an action done to protect her, but he never stopped to consider how much she would have to face within Hogwarts walls. It was only after the final battle that he got the full story of Neville's and Ginny's last year. Taking over the leadership of the DA while facing the Carrow siblings forced them to lean on each other more than ever before.

"Don't be ridiculous; your problems have always been public," Pansy dismissed his protest, casually sitting on one of the empty sofas. "Now, what's with the fuss? Has somebody died or what?"

"Well, if you'd like to know, our dear Hermione accepted a necklace from Lisa Krum last night," Harry said. "And not just any piece of fucking jewelry, no. She opened a box with Nadia Krum's engagement necklace and just rushed to put it around her lovely neck."

"She thinks there's nothing wrong with that," Ginny added, turning to glare at Hermione.

There was a moment of shock, where no one spoke anything. Even Pansy seemed speechless, and that woman did not shut up easily. She was a pureblood, though, just like Neville, Susan, and Blaise, so they all knew exactly what it meant — no explanation needed. To them, it was an inconceivable mistake.

"Did anyone see you with it?" Blaise asked, looking at Hermione with a serious face.

" _Dolohov,_ " Hermione cursed out the name, still missing the whole point of the conversation.

"She was the one who told her to take that damn thing off," Harry explained, not caring that it was an admission of eavesdropping on his part.

"Did she?" Neville sounded surprised. "I guess that was an almost nice gesture for her."

Harry shrugged, not contesting. That surname still unnerved him, and it went almost against his instincts to say anything good about her — even if he agreed with it, deep down. Deep, deep down.

"Did you deal with Krum?" Pansy asked.

"Yes," Harry assured. "Cornered her after the party and made sure she knew what I thought about her sneaky tactics. Sure, she sounded apologetic and claimed that her brother thought it would be a romantic gesture on her part. But it sounded off. It was too perfect — almost like a rehearsed line. She mentioned that it was never with the intention to brand or mark her and that it was merely a gesture."

"I told you it was a gesture," Hermione said. "This is all ridiculous. I won't stand for this any longer; I refuse to. I'm not a child nor am I in need of this group scolding. If I want to receive a gift from someone, then I sure as hell will, and none of you can tell me off. I harmed no one, and neither did Lisa."

"Have you checked her for spells?" Blaise asked, looking a little alarmed at her vehemence.

"When she had her back turned, yes," Ginny said, who also made all sorts of different faces as Hermione continued to speak.

"You what?"

"You have to admit, Hermione, this is not your typical behavior," The redheaded said. "I had to check."

"You're all out of your god-damned minds," The brightest witch of her generation spoke, sounding way less bright than usual.

"If you say so, sweetheart," Pansy managed to sound insulting and caring at the same time — it was almost a form of art. "What was the deal with you, ginger, anyway? I saw your little fight with Padma at the bar."

"It was nothing," Ginny said, shrugging. "I just... She was just talking about her job, which made me feel like crap. That's all."

"I can't believe you're still worried about that," Pansy said, raising one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "The healer said that you might have problems-"

"That I possibly will," She corrected, crossing her arms. "Possibly will."

"But you may not," Neville pointed out, nudging Ginny's arm with his own. "You shouldn't concern yourself so much with it."

"And I've offered to brew all the ferti-" Blaise began, repeating his offer for the hundredth time.

"I know!" The redheaded said, frustrated. "I know. I just feel somewhat inappropriate now that all this extremely fertile women are throwing themselves at Harry's feet."

"Ginny," Harry whispered, opening his arms for her to sit on his lap just as she approached him. "You know that is not a concern for me. It changes nothing."

"Yes, rationally I know. But it still hurt when Padma began to talk about all the babies she sees every day and how much she wishes to have one of her own someday," She admitted, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Don't let it get to you, my love," He comforted, rubbing her back. "We'll deal with it if the problem ever arises."

"Should I feel insulted that all this mess waited for the meeting to be at my house to happen?" Neville asked, forcing a joke to soften the mood.

"It's just a stupid necklace," Hermione said, in a defeated tone, when they all looked at her. "I don't even have it anymore."

"That's so not the point," Ginny said, lifting her head to look at her. "If Vasilisa-"

"That... that _woman_ has nothing to do with any of this. She's disgusting and vile."

"She was only trying to warn you of the mistake you were about to make, don't be so petty," Harry said, incredulous with his situation. Was he actually defending Dolohov's child?

"Warn me? Is that you call it?" Streaks of magic once again began to show around Hermione's whole body. "She basically called me Lisa's slut."

"Well, if you don't wanna be called such names, then perhaps you shouldn't behave like one," Harry felt the less bit of his patience leave him at the same time as the horrific words left his mouth.

He expected it, but still the shocked and offended face Hermione immediately spotted made him feel like the number one dick on planet earth.

"Hermione, I-" He began to apologize, only to be left speaking to no one, 'cause she'd gotten up and left the room.

"Great, Harry, that was a great way of dealing with this," Ginny smacked him over the head, a furious glare accompanying it.

"Ouch, mate," Neville added. "That was way too rash."

He rubbed his entire face, frustrated with himself and his inability to control his temper.

"That was brutal," He agreed. "I just wish she'd understand where I'm coming from, though. This situation is complicated enough as it is, we can't afford to be so reckless."

"You better fucking apologize to her as soon as you leave this room, Harry Potter, or so help me, I'll murder you myself. Do you hear me?" His girlfriend ordered, clearly expecting to be obeyed.

"Of course," She needn't have said it. "I just... I'll be back."

He got up, knowing way more stress awaited him in the room.

_Fuck._

...............................................................

Harry knew where he'd find her. Whenever Hermione needed to think, she came to her office. To her, the room wasn't a space reserved for work-related moments only; it represented a space she created for herself, where everything was organized her way and served a purpose often only known to her. It was Hermione's safe heaven, and Harry was reluctant to taint it with their fight.

So he knocked, giving her the option of leaving it and meeting him in the hallway. But only silence met his knock, so he tried again.

"Hermione, please, can we talk?" He pleaded, knowing his case wasn't the strongest.

More silence followed, so he decided to open the door. Only to be met with an empty space. What the hell?

There it was, her massive dark desk, filled with papers and large books like it always was. But she wasn't there. Occupying the space was only the bouquet of Kadupul Flowers Krum sent her almost a week before, still shining as if they'd just been picked hours before.

Harry was viciously cursing Krum's name when the sound of Hermione's voice echoed through the house.

"Harry!" She screamed, and suddenly his heart was racing a mile an hour.

All other thoughts were pushed to the side in his head while Harry began to run, following the panicked sound of his girlfriend's yell and thinking of possible ways somebody might have broken into their house. Behind him, other footsteps could be heard. No doubt her scream sent every occupant of the house into overload.

Harry burst into the room first, wand firm into his hands, ready for trouble. But Hermione was with Fleur in their room; neither one was carrying their wands.

Everybody else burst into the room seconds after him, also looking ready to battle.

"What is happening here?" He asked, pissed off.

"Harry, I think Gabrielle has been kidnaped," Hermione said, her face as white as a sheet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is finally happening. I've been keeping this secret for so many chapters, you guys! Many times I've wanted just to come out and say it, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise. To everybody who complained about Gabrielle sudden disappearance, don't worry, for she's about to make a grand come back.


	22. Much Needed Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written a chapter so fast in all my life. My whole being is so excited about this new arch, guys. I hope you'll all love it as much as I do.
> 
> Again, big thanks to everybody writing reviews for this story, favoriting it or following it. You all rock!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not a single piece of Harry Potter is mine. There, I've said it.

Silence.

The whole house was permeated by a profound lack of any particular noise. It was appropriate, the quietness. No one had anything to say that they hadn't already mentioned. All information had been told, and the authorities, called. There was nothing left to do but wait. So they did, not one single body moving. The occupants of the Potter residence all stood still, waiting for the news to come.

The French DMLE was notified, and the Delacour Manor was on complete lockdown. Aurors were checking the place top to bottom while a special unity was in charge of the investigation to find where Gabrielle currently was. Appoline and Damon Delacour were both at a hospital, still in a coma, looking just like they did when Fleur found them both lying unconscious on the floor of their bathroom. No signs of fighting or distress, not even their wands had been drawn. Whoever did this was either excellent at it or, even worse, someone familiar enough to not draw suspicion.

Like her parents, Gabrielle also left them with no clue as to what really happened. Her room was pristine as always, and nothing was missing from it. No house elf had seen or heard anything. It looked like the ultimate crime, no evidence or witness. Harry, however, knew enough to understand that there was no such thing as a perfect crime, something would come up, and they only had to wait for it.

Harry ran the pieces of information he already had again in his head, trying to find any clues he might have missed before. The Delacours sisters met at every friday for lunch — which was the last time Fleur saw her younger sister, the day before the first meeting — at a sandwich place in Hogsmeade. Apparently, Fleur had thought it was strange for her sister not to send a letter mentioning her experience with The Announcement, but brushed it off, thinking she was confused or shy about it. However, when she failed to show up at their next lunch, Fleur decided to send a letter questioning her absence. A letter to which she never got a reply.

Frustrated and worried by the lack of response, the part-veela decided to use a portkey to visit her family house in northern France, where she found both her parents passed out and her sister missing. She immediately called the aurors, who took her to the ministry for a full testimony before releasing her to visit her mother and father at the hospital. From there she went home, to inform her husband where she had been all that time, before floo'ing to their place, where she currently still was.

Fleur couldn't think of anyone who might have wanted to kidnap her sister but nearly went into an apoplectic fit when someone asked her if this might simply be a teenage rebellion in the form of a runaway. Bottom line, they had nothing.

Harry was trying, for the sake of being an adult for once, not to rush into action — which was what every single particle of his body currently demanded of him. Sitting and waiting was not his preferred course of action, and it only served to make him all the more anxious to do something. Anything.

The flame of his fireplace suddenly cracked and turned blue seconds before Wayne Hopkins stepped into the room, way more dressed up than what Harry came to expect from the man. The Hufflepuff prodigy was the youngest head of the Britain Department of Magical Law Enforcement since 1873 but never seemed uncomfortable or distressed about the fact. Quite the opposite, actually. Wayne wore his title with an ease that never failed to impress the boy-who-lived. Every encounter Harry had with the bronze-haired man had only served to further his appreciation of him.

"Mrs. Weasley, leaving your country might not have been the smartest choice to make in a situation such as this," He began, not wasting time with pleasantries. "I've just spent the last half an hour in a conversation with Auguste Dufort — the head of the French DMLE — trying to prevent your immediate extradition."

"What? I live here with my husband; they can't just force me to reside in France for an indefinite period," Fleur said, jumping from her concerned silence to a high-toned cry.

"Indeed they can, Mrs. Weasley. Not only can they ask for it, but they can legally demand it," Wayne corrected. "You're the only link the aurors have to this case, and even though you've already given your testimony, your presence to analyze any strange clue they might find at your family house may demand your immediate presence. Be prepared to leave at any given moment."

The part-veela said nothing, clearly irritated by the demand but more than willing to do anything that might help them find her sister as soon as possible. Wayne never waited for her to agree or disagree, he was already turning to face the rest of the occupants in the room, all who were facing him ready for responses.

"Lord Potter, are you ready to give your testimony?"

"Why would my testimony be necessary?" He asked, surprised.

"The information that was passed to me suggested that Miss. Delacour was accepted in your current process to find wives," He said that with no inflection whatsoever. It was impossible to tell whether he approved or not the fact that a sixteen-years-old had been among his possible future wives. "And it also stated that she never showed up to any of the meetings. We'd like to hear not only your reason for failing to report her absence but also your thoughts on the other contestants."

"Of course," Harry agreed, smiling on the outside but forcing his angry shouts down on the inside. He gestured to the stairs. "After you, please."

He nodded lightly, stepping forward and up the stairs straight away. Harry looked at his girlfriends quickly before turning to follow and noticed they looked concerned — like he expected they would be — but Hermione also had a dark, guilty stance. Knowing her as he did, Harry knew she was probably blaming herself for not contacting Fleur the minute Gabrielle failed to show up at the first meeting.

"I didn't think my testimony would be necessary, Wayne," Harry said, dropping the formality just as soon as he closed the door of his home office, just like Wayne always insisted he did. "What's happening?"

"It's quite a mess in the Ministry because of this missing girl, Harry. I won't lie, this is all a great mess with the potential of causing significant problems to our diplomatic relationship with France," The young man admitted, rubbing his forehead in a frustration fashion. "If one of the contestants from The Announcement did kidnap or kill the Delacour kid, then my job will become truly complicated."

"Explain," Harry asked, sitting in his chair and moving to grab some Cuban cigars. They were Wayne's favorites, and Harry could use some nicotine at the moment. As soon as he passed one to the man, he leaned back and lit the cigar, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he exhaled and focused again.

"Damon Delacour is a prominent political figure in the French Ministry. A well-educated man with money and smarts to back his beliefs and propositions," Wayne explained. "Almost a Lucius Malfoy — only with a better agenda. Since the war, he has been a vocal supporter of political unions with Britain, which has both pleased and angered some groups in both countries. Our traditions are much more old-fashioned than theirs — as much as we've changed in the past few years — and these ties would mean having to face many of these differences head-ons."

"So, Damon is a man of many enemies, that's what you're saying?" Harry deduced, already going over the new possibilities.

"Yes, he certainly has gained his fair share of hate. Which, although horrible for him, is great information for us right now," Wayne admitted, scratching his neck. "But doesn't make lots of sense, facing the evidence. If the point were to hurt him, it would've been much easier just to kill him or his wife — the person surely had plenty of opportunities to do so at the house. The bottom line is, this dirt possibly came from our side."

"Shit," Harry cursed, facing the facts it was fairly obvious that Gabrielle's disappearance was more than likely because of The Announcement. "You think one of the girls did this?"

"Or had someone do it for them, yes," He nodded, taking a deep drag from his cigar. "And I have to solve this matter as quickly as possible, to prevent any opportunity other influential groups might have to use this to their advantage. Both Delacours are being kept at a high-security part of the hospital, but we know how money can open many doors."

"There's always a fucking snitch," Harry agreed. "Perhaps is time to call Draco. He's the best to walk this fine line — much better than me. I swear that guy can charm anyone to do anything."

"He sure does try to," Wayne rolled his eyes, surrendering to the idea though. "I can't stay this long, call him after I leave and have him pay me a visit at his earlier convenience — I'll fill him in the details. Tell me, have you noticed anything strange with any of the girls? You sure have a mixed group: Carrows, Dolohov..."

"Don't I know it?" Harry said darkly, exhaling as he spoke. "Gotta be honest with you though, the name I'm having more problems is one that will only bring you more headache."

"Not the Bulgarian one, surely?" He asked, clearly dreading another diplomatic war.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, nodding his head. "She's a sneaky one, can't quite pin her down, which makes me more uneasy than I'd like to admit. She has her claws out for Hermione — a calculated move, I think."

"Why you're keeping her around then?"

"I can't eliminate any of the girls before the last meeting," Harry said. "It's in the fucking rules. But you know how this works better than me, don't be ridiculous. In this case, I think is better to keep her close than to leave her out of sight."

"She doesn't have a dirty record," Wayne stated, dumping the end of his cigar in the ashtray. "My department ran a record check on all the selected girls."

"I know," Harry admitted, knowing it wouldn't surprise Wayne that he had other sources of information all over the Ministry. "And I have on good authority that the girls are not in any source of bad business."

"On good authority, you say?" The former Hufflepuff asked although it was a rhetorical question. He raised both eyebrows, calculating. "Well, this doesn't mean they haven't kidnaped the Delacour girl. Any other girl has called your attention?"

"In a bad way? No," Harry said. "But some I've only seen twice, so much may have escaped my notice. I can tell you those I'm confident weren't responsible for this, if you'd like, to spare you from wasting your time."

"Please, do so," Wayne agreed, trusting Harry's personal opinion.

"Daphne Greengrass, Luna Lovegood, and Tracy Davis," Harry listed, knowing Tracy definitely wasn't doing anything wrong. In the last meeting, while he had been holding her very close, he may or may not have given into the temptation of invading her mind to see what she was made of.

Wayne raised his eyebrows once again, surprised by the name selection, but decided against asking for an explanation. He rose from his chair, coming to shake his hand.

"Duty awaits me," He said. "But write me if you remember any important detail you might be forgetting right now. And, in the name of all that is holy, do not go barging in there trying to save the girl, okay?"

"Cannot promise that, but I'm trying to control myself as much as I can." Harry was honest, knowing it would be stupid to lie. "Keep me posted, alright?"

"You, Harry Potter, are trouble," Wayne confessed, shaking his head. "But, yeah, I will. Can I use your fireplace here?"

"Sure," Harry agreed on both accounts, watching as he floo'ed back to the Ministry and musing over the information he had just received.

Who could be holding Gabrielle Delacour in captivity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts about all of this. Who has Gabrielle?


	23. In The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while to arrive for two reasons: One, I was on vacation from college and decided to take some time to just travel and enjoy my free days. I needed the time for myself, without feeling like I had to write or edit anything. Second, I reread this whole story and concluded that I need someone to beta read it for me. I try as hard as I can to edit it carefully — as to not miss any mistakes — but English is not my native tongue which makes it twice as hard. So, if one of you is interested in helping me I'd be forever grateful — so, yeah, please PM me. I love this piece of work and wish for all the readers to have the best experience possible.
> 
> As always, big thanks to everyone following and/or reviewing this story. It's massively appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: Dobby owns nothing. Dobby is a free elf.

The old, dirty magazine fell to the floor when Harry lost his balance while landing. Portkeys would never agree with him one hundred percent, no matter how many times he used one. It reminded him of too many things he'd rather forget, even to this day. Which was probably why Harry didn't notice her right away.

She was leaning against a tree, a dark cloak covering her entire body with a huge hood over her face. She looked deadly — dangerous — while standing in the shadow, making it impossible to recognize who she was. However, magical signatures were impossible to conceal completely. Hers was familiar; Harry could feel her even from a distance. Her magic; it pulsated.

"I knew you'd come," she said, her voice soft and neutral. It was impossible to tell whether she was happy or displeased with his decision to come.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry said, stepping closer with every spoken word. He was invading all of her personal space, something he knew she utterly despised, but Harry did it regardless — he did it _because_ of it. If she insisted on messing where she shouldn't, he would simply have to return the favor.

Her cloak was obviously charmed to conceal all of her features, to the point where no matter how close he looked she stood completely hidden, still. Totally disguised, an opposite of him who stood in the light, face showing open.

"When I heard about Gabrielle's kidnapping I knew you'd come here," she said, still hidden by the darkness of the night. "I thought you'd appreciate a helping hand."

If the proximity bothered her in any way, she never allowed it to show on her body language. Her voice flowed steady and composed as ever. Her body, as well, remained right where it was for she made no move to put any distance between them.

"You thought wrong. I need no one sticking their nose into my business. Go home," He ordered, using a tone that would've left any of his girls bristling in anger.

"No," Daphne said, lowering her hood and exposing her calm face to him. In the dark, her fair hair seemed almost to glow.

"Did you not hear me? I said I don't need help." He needed her to leave.

"On the contrary, I heard you perfectly. But I never asked you what was it that you desired. My presence is not an object you may choose to dispose of."

"This is illegal; you can be arrested, should you be caught. Aren't Slytherins known for their self-preservation skills?"

"You know what your problem is, Lord Potter?" The words dripped from her mouth. "You've always put too much importance in peoples Hogwarts houses. Just because I was sorted, at the young age of eleven, to Salazar's house, it doesn't mean all my choices are self-serving or manipulative. After all, weren't you supposed to be a Slytherin as well?"

Harry felt his both freeze at her words. It was partly true, he couldn't deny the importance he gave to the houses even after all that happened, but she had no way of knowing he spoke the words only to see her leave. He wouldn't tell her that.

He shook his head, trying to remain focused. What did he have to say for her to disappear?

"You're pregnant," He tried again. "Go. Home."

Daphne didn't dignify him with an answer, apparently tired of his demands. She leveled him with a pointed look instead, which only served to annoy him further. They didn't have the time to argue over staying or going; they needed to get moving. Otherwise, the aurors would surely notice them.

" _Fuck,_ " He cursed, throwing a glare at her. "Fine, let's get this over with."

Harry approached the big rock next to the tree — the reason he was in that exact location in the first place. The tiny runes carved near the bottom of it marked the wards placed around the propriety. He began to carefully arrange the wards, trying to allow their entrance.

Harry knew enough about the aurors procedure to not only understand the wards in place but also how to shift them slightly to permit their passage without leaving a trace behind.

It wasn't an easy job, but Harry was more than used to perform under pressure. His unique circumstance also made things much simpler.

"So, that little stunt with Tracy," Daphne's voice interrupted his focus, demanding his attention. "Quite the show."

Of course, it hadn't slipped her notice.

"This isn't exactly easy, you know?" He chose to evade the question, knowing she wouldn't give up so easily.

"You don't seem to be struggling," She pointed out, making no move to help him.

She was right. Harry wasn't struggling, although it was a hard task. The elder wand — transfigurated to look like his old wand — alongside his own larger than the average reserve of magic made most magical tasks appear to be easier than it was. Not that he would tell her that either.

"Maybe I'm a good actor," He said, instead.

"I don't think so," She crossed her arms. "Stop evading."

"Stop meddling."

"Why, how rude! I'm merely a concerned bride."

Her sarcasm took Harry by surprise, and he almost faltered in his movements. He hadn't been aware of that side of her.

"No, you're not," He stated, feeling the corners of his mouth treating to rise in amusement. "We're in."

She seemed to decide against pushing for an answer because she merely followed as he walked to a side door. It led to a living room/reading space, filled with books and expensive looking sofas.

It was an elegant house, more like Malfoy Manor than his own house, privileging class and riches over warmness and comfort. Harry imagined Daphne felt much more at ease in that environment than she ever would in his.

"What do you expect to find here?" Daphne asked, her fingers grazing the books on the wall.

"A clue," He explained. "But not as visible as what the aurors searched for, I imagine. Were they happy? Did she feel the need to run away?"

"I was under the impression that you assumed it was a kidnap." She looked somewhat surprised, stopping her motions to look at him.

"I can't be sure, for I don't know where she is. All evidence point towards a hostage situation, but sometimes evidence can be misleading. Fleur is happy imagining her family has no problems, but families always have them — all I need is to find where the crap is."

"That's a depressing outlook on life for a future father to have," She mused, looking straight at him with an intense expression. Harry had a feeling it was again a test, which meant his answer was going to be judged.

"Is it?" He shrugged. "I would rather acknowledge the reality and deal with the problem — whichever it may be — than to pretend all is perfect under a false pretense of happiness. I wouldn't want my kids to grow up like Malfoy."

"Not all problems can be fixed, however," She insisted, moving her eyes around the paintings on the wall.

"That's true, but it doesn't mean we cannot try our best."

"That's a very naive way of facing life," Daphne said, turning to face him again. "Trying your best is often just a waste of effort."

"I believe in honesty and trust. I deal with problems as they come and try to make the best of the crappy situations we must all sometimes face," Harry stood his ground, not at all embarrassed by her claim. "If that makes me naive... well, I guess I have been called worst."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, before moving to the next room, saying nothing else about the topic. Harry followed, not knowing if she truly had nothing else to say or if she was afraid of offending him.

.........................

He shouldn't ask. It was an invasion of her privacy, something he had no right to know, but to his uttermost embarrassment, the words came out of his mouth almost as soon as he thought them.

"Has the father tried to contact you?"

She stopped moving; her hand still raised to get a paper sitting on the top of the desk. For a painful moment, Harry thought she would ignore his question completely, but she snapped out of her daze just as quickly as she entered it.

"No," She supplied, her voice surprisingly bitter. It was a novelty to see her displaying that much emotion at once. "He has no reason to. My presence was not essential in any way."

"But you did leave rather abruptly," He insisted, knowing he was overstepping his boundaries. Again.

"So? He certainly had no wish for me to remain there forever. To him, it was much more convenient for me to leave on my own volition than for him to have to kick me out later." The words were almost being spat out of her mouth.

Harry understood how painful it was to be betrayed by those you loved, and her situation was bad enough to warrant all sorts of nasty feelings, but he couldn't shake the notion that some piece was still missing for him.

"What makes you believe you were so disposable?"

She lifted her head to glare at him. Her green eyes, so different from his own emerald eyes, sparkled in anger, her whole instance oozing contempt.

"What makes you think I owe you answers?"

"It wasn't my intention to offend you, and you don't owe me anything," He backtracked. "I cannot help but wonder, though."

For a second she looked rather pained, almost as if his question brought her physical pain. It served to make him realize how unreasonable his question was, and Blaise's warning came to mind.

"Forgive me," He apologized. "You don't have to answer my questions because of your situation. I'll sign the contract no matter how you behave when we're by ourselves — you shouldn't feel as though you have to accommodate me."

Harry knew he hit the nail on the head when he saw her shoulders dropping ever so slightly in relieve, however, her expression remained tense. Perhaps his words still meant very little to her.

"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic to sign the contract pertaining to Daphne Anne Greengrass as soon as the new modifications are made — assigning her with the correct title. So I say, so mote it be," He vowed, hands raised in the air and wandless.

"You're too quick to act carelessly," She said, almost managing to hide her shock. Almost.

"And yet, you look calmer for it," He pointed out, smiling a little. "Your title is chosen, I've checked the vault. It'll probably be signed tomorrow. I don't want the pressure hanging over your head."

"I see," was all she said, moving to open a drawer on the table.

Harry looked around the room. It was the last place on the family wing they were checking, and yet they found nothing to justify being there. He felt beyond frustrated with the situation — there must be something he was missing. Nobody kidnapped a person for no reason, leaving no clue behind.

"One can only hear that they are useless and worthless so many times before it starts to feel like it's true." Daphne's voice was nothing more than a whisper. Nevertheless, it seemed like the loudest of screams inside the closed space they were standing, erasing all previous thoughts from his mind and sending a shot of pure anger through his system.

Harry wanted to shout out in anger, demanding the name he so desperately wanted but knew she would not give. However, he controlled himself, closing his fists and eyes while he tried to think of an appropriate response to such confession. He didn't know her — not really — and so any reassuring would sound empty coming from his mouth.

There was only one thing he could do.

"Let's go home. There's nothing to find here," He said, moving to the door.

She only nodded, also moving to leave the room.

When Daphne came within touching distance, Harry placed his hand on her shoulder — making no move to restrain her, only resting it there.

"Thank you," He told her, carrying on when she only responded with a confused stare. "For trusting me. I'll keep this conversation between us and, perhaps, in the future, I'll have earned the right to say more about this."

"I..." She began, making no move to remove his hand. "Your discretion is appreciated."

Harry nodded, understanding their moment of confidences had passed. He took the portkey from his pocket and raised for her to grab, activating it a second later, leaving France and the Delacour propriety behind.

.......................................................................

He tried to climb on the bed carefully as to not rouse the girls. Maybe he could sleep a little, even if only for a couple of hou—

"Found anything useful?" Ginny whispered, breaking his chain of thought and startling him with the sound.

"I thought you were sleeping already," He muttered, more to himself than anything else. "Well, the house is weird. There's something that left me on edge, even though I can't explain it completely. It's all too perfectly arranged."

He stopped there, trying to think how to say the rest. She didn't interrupt.

"The house is big, Gin, too big. If one of the contestants did this, they had help from someone who knew the house well enough not to disturb anything."

"One of the house elves?" She said, wrinkling her nose.

"No, that's the first thing the aurors checked," He said, shaking his head. "They are clean. Some human passed the information along. But who? Fleur said the family entertains a lot, but very few people are allowed in the east wing, where the bedrooms are located. Which narrows down our search, but complicates matters further."

"How come?"

"Well, the only people who went there recently were Bill, Fleur's grandmother, the family lawyer, and Luna," He said, feeling a frown settling on his face.

"All who should be beyond reproach," She mused, echoing his previous thoughts. "Which just makes questionings a lot more awkward."

There was a way to avoid the awkward conversations while gathering more valuable information Harry needed. Ginny would not like it, though.

"I think it's time to have a little conversation with the couple," Harry admitted, carefully watching her reaction.

"They are not conscious yet; you know that," She looked puzzled, which meant she missed his meaning.

"I don't need them to be awake to get what I need," He explained, giving her a pointed look.

"You can't be serious!" And there it was, the indignant look of righteousness all Gryffindors wore so well. Unfortunately, they didn't have the time to indulge in her moral rules.

"It's been days, Ginny!" He said, giving up pretenses of getting any sleep and moving to the office, knowing she would follow. "We have no clue — she could be dying, for all we know. I will not stand aside any longer and wait for a tragedy to happen."

She walked behind him in silence, probably fuming over his reasonings and mentally preparing a speech to dissuade his decision. He wouldn't change his mind — they were both aware of it — but she still felt the occasional need to state his irresponsibilities out loud, hoping it would cause a sudden appearance of his cautious side.

"Please don't do anything stupid, okay? I don't want to have to drag your ass out of prison," She said instead, just as they stepped inside of his office, surprising him. She had a defeated expression on her face, reminding him that she hated the situation just as much as he did.

"You know I can'—"

Seeing her angry stare, Harry chose to start over. "I'm always careful, my love, the world is simply too tricky."

"Of course," She said, closing her eyes and leaning against the door frame.

"Daphne was there," He dropped the words, watching as her eyes popped open instantly.

" _What?_ " Ginny's voice came out strangled.

"Yes, she was waiting by a tree for me to arrive. She insisted on coming along as I searched the house."

She did not react to his words. Instead, she just looked at him searching for something in his eyes.

"Have you guys kissed, yet?" She asked, after a moment of silence.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He thought of many things she might have asked about Daphne's presence, but that one never even crossed his mind.

"Are you kidding? Definitely not," He assured. "Daphne wants the contract signed and her child protected. I don't think she's even attracted to me, at all."

"Are you?" She demanded, still holding his gaze captive in her own.

"I'm not used to feeling comfortable around women who are not mine. It's still weird to even entertain the idea of being intimate with another," He admitted, before adding. "It's better for everyone involved if we don't allow feelings to get in the way."

"Right, 'cause you have always been all about indifference," She mocked, crossing her arms. "One can see it by your careful indifference with Gabrielle's case."

"What do you want from me?" He demanded, sitting in his chair and rubbing his forehead. "Am I supposed not to care? Is that what you wish?"

"I want you not to forget who you are," She said, moving closer and arranging herself between his chair and the table, right in front of him. Her eyes met his. "I believe that's my job, as a loving girlfriend."

When she hugged his head, pressing it to her sternum, before kissing the top of it, he felt the tension he had been carrying all day melting away with every single second passing. Harry knew the peace wouldn't last, but for the moment he allowed himself to be comforted in the arms of the woman he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll see you guys in the next chapter. Don't forget to review! XoXo


	24. A Day Is Far Too Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been devoting so much of my time to other stories I'm writing that this chapter struggled to get finished. It's here now. Annnnd some new answers await y'all in it, I'm so excited.
> 
> The reviews always make my day. Thank you.
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, I'm just messing around.

"It's ready," He announced, quite proudly. "You own me, scarhead."

"You're a shitty friend," Harry stated, accepting the contract while sitting back in his chair.

"I have no idea what you could possibly mean," Draco said, dusting some invisible dirt from his shoulders before directing himself to the fireplace. "I trust you'll take it up to Daphne?"

"As soon as I sign it," He agreed, knowing his girls would want to read it before he signed anything.

Draco halted his moves, his back turned to Harry, and his hand dipped in the firepowder jar. When he spoke, he didn't bother to turn around. "You and I... We don't need to talk about Daphne, do we?"

The warning was crystal clear, ringing across the room.

"Blaise covered all of it, I'm sure," Harry assured, allowing a smirk to bloom on his face, knowing it would not be seen. "Although I won't prevent you from speaking if that's your wish. Far it be for me to deny you such pleasure."

"Astoria only found out yesterday, when Daphne finally decided to tell her all that's been happening," He carried on, his voice only slightly strained. "If my wife gets hurt because of any of this, Potter, make no mistake, there won't be a thing I won't do."

As Draco spoke, the smirk slowly faded away, as Harry noticed how serious the man was. Draco wanted to protect the person he loved, even if he would never explicitly say so, and the boy-who-lived understood that.

"She'll be safe with me, Draco," He said, the words heavy with meaning. "Astoria will be welcome here at any time to see her sister, make sure she knows that."

"I see," The blond man said, finally gripping the powder. "Thank you."

As soon as Draco left, disappearing in a swirl of fire, Harry got up from his chair. He too was on his way out. There were problems to solve, and unfortunately, the contract resting on top of his table was only one of those.

....................................................

Harry never expected it to be easy. The second they decided to enter The Announcement, Harry began to brace himself for the hit to come. Hermione was too political prominent; he was far too powerful...there was no way somebody wouldn't take the advantage to exploit an opening the situation presented. Naive optimist had long ceased to be one of Harry's faults.

So, he hadn't been blindsided. At least not completely. But Harry never expected it to happen all at once. Whichever fuckery he had been expecting — and he thought of many — this had not been it. The couple standing — well, not standing per se — in front of him had the answers he needed, but Harry was almost reluctant to seize them. If they knew — if they had anything to do with it — what happened to Gabrielle, then Harry would have no choice but to chase after her. And, despite the screams echoing inside his mind telling him to fix all that was wrong and save the fucking girl, rationally he knew he had no time to waste on that shit. He needed to settle Daphne's situation and, more prominently, fix whatever the fuck was going on with Hermione. That's what he had to do; what he must do. Not go on a chase after the lost veela.

And yet, there he was, standing in front of their beds, ready to invade the privacy of their minds with no regards whatsoever for the sanctity of one's personal thoughts. Harry came looking for answers, and he refused to leave without them. He had, after all, paid a quite hefty bribe to the doctor in charge on their ward to stand unsupervised in that room, and Harry was never a fan of wasted money.

With that in mind, he focused on Damon first, preparing his own mind for the information to come, before delving forward.

" _Legilimens!_ "

There were two ways the intrusion could go. Damon would either be conscient or unconscious. Which meant he would either answer or try to resist, or he wouldn't and things would run much smoother. If the guy didn't waste his time trying to hide memories from him, Harry could be back home at lunchtime.

However, it did not surprise him when he encountered a well-constructed shield the second he entered the man's mind. Expect the best; be ready for the worst — that's his motto.

' _Lower your shields,_ ' Harry ordered, trying to be civil first.

' _Leave me,_ ' A deep, heavily accented voice answered, accompanying a strong push to shove Harry out of his mind.

Predictable.

' _No can do,_ ' He denied. ' _Mister Delecour, this is Harry Potter. Your daughter, Gabrielle, has been kidnaped from your house almost a week ago. Perhaps you can enlighten me about what exactly happened that day._ '

Shock. Resentment. Surprise. Fear. Love.

Being inside someone's head was not something one got used to. Harry still marveled at the wonders of feeling — tasting — another's thoughts so easily. Damon's mind — his most personal musings and deep feelings — were surrounding him, not much unlike his own.

Once you got a taste of someone's mind you never forgot it. If Harry ever entered Damon's mind again, he would immediately know who he was. Like voices or physical appearances, there were no two equal minds.

The resistance faded when the man processed what he had said. Instead, his shields dropped and Harry felt the thoughts floating around him — accessible and readily. Immediately Harry concluded that Damon Delacour was not the one responsible for Gabrielle's disappearance — it would be almost impossible to lie with all his shields dropped as they were. The man was inviting Harry deeper into his mind.

' _Please,_ ' He said. ' _Look at my memories and check anything you can, Lord Potter. I'm not the one who kidnaped my daughter, but I fear the person who did it is within our very family..._ '

..............................................

The second Harry landed in his living room; the loud noise assaulted his ears. The screaming was accompanied by the sound of breaking glass and objects being dropped.

"Hermione?" He shouted, running up the stairs in the direction of the noise.

No one answered, and the shouting kept on going, even as Harry approached Hermione's office — slamming the door open with the force of his body.

There was no one else in the office except for her, that's what he noticed first, subsequently, Harry realized the mess which had replaced the usual tidiness of the place. The books were on the floor; the chairs we turned; papers were scattered everywhere. It was chaos. However, it wasn't the worst of it. In the middle, smacking a glass vase with her bare hands, stood Hermione, screaming like a mad woman even as the blood ran down her arms.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, hurrying to her side and dragging her away from the table.

She resisted, though, drowning his demand with her desperate screams and elbowing his ribs as she tried to escape his hold.

"Hermione," He called, "Stop it!"

That's when he realized what she was destroying. The vase wasn't her offender; it was only the mere container standing in her way. The flowers, once perfectly blossomed buttons, were now torn to pieces — steams and petals scattered around the table, no longer forming the famous plant.

The shock made him careless, and of course, his girl noticed his lax grip, because she sprang forward the very next second, hauling more glass into the wall, screaming in anger.

"Shit!" He cursed, focusing for a moment to call his magic. " _Expecto Patronus._ " The stag surged from the tip of his wand, stronger than it should ever be. "Find Ginny. Tell her to come home."

As soon as the order came, the stag disappeared, eager to follow it's orders.

He wouldn't vanish the mess; Merlin only knew what sort of profs they would find there, so the only options he had were to either stun her from the back or forcefully remove her from the room. Harry didn't want to curse her, it went against every fiber of his being, so that meant he would have to pick her up and force her out.

She was still screaming, and her hands bleed at an increasing pace; the red liquid covered her table as well as her clothes. Hermione's hair was wildly bouncing as she moved, sparkling with unreleased magic. She was wild. Unleashed.

He moved. Tackling her as a football player would an enemy holding the ball, he held her tightly against his chest as she struggled to be released. Harry refused to let go of her; he wouldn't.

"Calm down, dammit!" He pleaded, moving her out of the room as he spoke.

It wasn't an easy task by any means, but Harry moved them towards the stairs — eager to get her as far away from her office as he could.

By the time they both made it to the living room couch, Harry was out of breath and Hermione looked ready to bolt out the door. Ginny apparated inside the house only seconds later, landing not far from where they were both sitting.

"What happened?" She demanded with a look of desperation on her face. Harry understood her reaction — it wasn't often he used his Patronus as a mean of communication.

He did not have, however, the answers she demanded. Although he could try to understand Hermione's attack, he still had many pieces missing from the final picture. What was the deal with the flowers? More specifically, what had Lisa Krum done?

"I think I need some tea," Hermione said, sounding just as lost as she looked.

"What?" The redheaded questioned, slightly out of breath, too. "Tea? What the hell is happening here?"

"Ginny, perhaps tea is necessary," He pointed out, giving her a significant look.

She pursed her lips, obviously still running on the adrenaline of the moment and displeased with the lack of answers she was receiving. She did, however, move towards the kitchen to presumably make the damn tea. It made Harry relax, if only by a tiny bit. The wait would be good for him to analyze his thoughts for a second — the fucking day would just not end.

He waited for as long as he could, trying to shove his curiosity down, but it did not work for very long.

"What happened?" He inquired softly, as to not startle her further. "We need to know."

"It was the flowers," She said, her voice raw from all the screaming. "Kadupul flowers don't survive more than 48 hours, that's a part of its charm. How could I have missed that? I feel stupid."

Ginny returned with a cup of tea, placing it on the table in front of Hermione. She didn't bother to say anything. Instead, she sat down next to Hermione and pressed herself into the girl's side.

"I'm not even going to bother correcting that statement," He said. "If you're stupid, then there's truly no hope for the rest of us."

Hermione remained silent; perhaps already emptied out from her previous fight. She did, however, squeeze the redheaded hands in a show of her appreciation. Harry was at war with himself. On the one hand, he wanted to comfort his girlfriend to make sure she was stable, on the other hand, he needed to collect the flowers and have them examined. He needed to know what Krum had done, in all the details possible, so he felt justified when he destroyed her life for daring to mess with what was his.

Probably sensing his inner struggle, Ginny said: "Go, I'll stay with her."

"It can wait." He forced the words out, trying to reason with himself.

"Don't be absurd," Hermione reacted, turning — finally — to face him. "Do what you must, I'll be here."

Her puffy eyes, still red from all the crying, were what stirred him into motion. Better than any platitudes he could offer at the moment, the best he could do for her would be to find out all that had happened and straighten things out. Any second wasted was too long when it came to Krum.

He didn't get up before kissing her forehead and holding her face with both his hands to say: "I'll send Pansy over, alright? If you need me, for anything — I mean it, Hermione, anything — you call me, okay?"

"Alright," She whispered, brokenly.

When he released her face, there was a single fresh tear running down her cheek.

"Hey," He called, wiping it with his hand. "We're not done yet."

Her eyes met his, and Harry could tell that she remembered. She understood. He had said those exact words before, on the Horcrux hunt, when there was only the two of them, struggling to survive. They hadn't been done then, and they certainly weren't done now. They would face it, and they would rise above it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *grins* As always, I hope to hear what you think about it.


	25. Losing My Cool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned, people, with a brand new chapter for you guys. Anyway, things are getting good, so make sure to review and let me know what you are all thinking about it, alright?
> 
> Disclaimer: As always I have to clarify that none of these characters are actually mine, so please do not sue me. I'm just messing around here.

Harry punched the wall in front of him. Hard. It was a useless act, however. The rock didn't give an inch under his questionable body strength, while Harry felt the knuckles in his hand protesting against the abuse — a burning pain crawling up his arm. It didn't matter to him — he welcomed the pain as the distraction it was from the mess happening around him.

How had things become so fucked up in a matter of hours?

Being in Wayne's office only served to remind him of how much shit he had to solve. Worst of all was the constant need to check up on Hermione and see how she was handling things, but not being able to do so because of his temporary confinement. Harry felt seconds away from blowing up Wayne's office door and leaving the Ministry building altogether. Being away from the action wasn't something he ever grew accustomed to.

Harry needed answers, fast. Even though he understood the difficulties presented when country barriers were in question, he wasn't prepared to wait for the formalities to get settled before he acted. Time could be running out as those diplomats argued among themselves.

He heard the footsteps seconds before the door opened to reveal the tired face of Wayne Hopkins. He carried several folders of paper in his hands, but his face immediately informed Harry that he hadn't been successful in his work.

"She fled the country, there's no doubt of that," He began, confirming their suspicions. "Half an hour before you came into my office, Lisa Krum bought a Ministry portkey for Bulgaria with an immediate departure. She left alone and carried no visible luggage. The Bulgaria Ministry, however, won't confirm if she landed in their territory or if she moved somewhere else. We are trying to negotiate, but so far they've been unmovable."

"Fuck," Harry cursed. "And Viktor?"

"Hasn't answered to the Ministry summons or letters," Wayne informed, moving around him to sit in his chair before dropping the papers on his desk with a soft thud. "We cannot send aurors into foreign territory and their Ministry refuses to cooperate any further."

Harry began to walk around the room, feeling his fists closing and the anger taking over his body once more.

"This is bullshit," He exclaimed, trying not to raise this voice. "To refuse to cooperate in a big case such as this is to undermine any relationship our governments have with each other. Why are they risking so much for a single girl?"

"She's not a single girl, and you know this. Don't play dumb now," Wayne disputed, shaking his head. "Viktor is an idol in their country — a popular player of the most popular sport in Europe. Even if his fame wasn't enough for their government to protect their family image, Andrei Krum is still a strong figure. He was the sole heir to his father's fortune and currently commands the family's empire with iron fists. More than half of the country's apothecaries are owned by him — they can't afford to pick a fight with a man such as him."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked. "They won't cooperate and we can't legally invade their country. Lisa could still be in Bulgaria but she might as well be in Australia for all we know. There's no way to search for her, is that what you're saying?"

The man in front of him rubbed his forehead harshly before speaking in a somewhat defeated voice: "Yes. In theory, there's not much we can do for now. I'm going through the legal processes of asking for a house search and imprisonment, but until then there's not a lot to do about it."

"What about her house here? Where was she staying?" He questioned, grasping at straws.

"At a hotel, apparently," Wayne answered, opening one of the folders in front of him to grab a single paper and hand it over to Harry's waiting hands. "A muggle hotel, no less. Apparently, Miss. Krum doesn't like to play it rough because The Langham is one of London's finest."

"Of course," Harry shook his head. "Of course she wouldn't stay in some shitty dumpster. Can we send someone to check it?"

"Yes, it's been done," He confirmed, accepting the paper back. "I'm still waiting for the report from the aurors. Don't get your hopes up, however, it's very unlikely that there will be something there which could be of much help."

"Anything is better than the whole bunch of nothing we have now," Harry pointed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What about Gabrielle?"

Wayne glared at him at the question, Harry could tell without looking up. He could fell the penetrant glare pointed at him just as surely as he could feel the ring burning slightly on his finger.

"What about it, Harry? Should I wait to arrest you after she's been brought back or should I just brush the formalities away and lock you up right now?" Wayne mocked, sounding somewhat serious and very pissed. "You can't do whatever you want just because you're able to, Harry. This is not a fucking game, this is my job."

Harry didn't have an answer to that, so he chose to remain silent. He knew Wayne; he knew how the man operated. He would cave to the silence long before Harry ever would — the need to chastise him for what he had done would be too great to resist.

Harry didn't wait for long — perhaps two minutes at most before the blond prodigy cracked and exhaled strongly.

"You are a piece of work," He said. "This is not the end of this conversation, you hear me? You cannot invade a hospital ward and force yourself into somebody's mind just because you believe the government system is too slow for your taste. Gabrielle is not any more important than anyone else is just because you have some kind of connection to her family."

"Some kind of connection, is this what you are calling it these days?" Harry poked, unwisely. "Forgive me if I'm not strong enough to follow your so wise path of solitude."

"I choose to be alone for a reason," The man pointed out, crossing his arms. "You know them very well, don't pretend otherwise. If you have chosen differently, fine, but don't come to me hoping that I'll magically fix your freaking mess every time."

Harry lifted his head, walking to Wayne's table and hitting down with his both hands as he half-shouted the next words: "Fix? I don't see you fixing shit. You're keeping me locked in this fucking office while Gabrielle might be dying and Krum is escaping your grasps."

"I'm keeping you here for your own protection, as well as the safety of my men who are risking their lives to try to save this girl," Wayne raised his voice as well, getting somewhat red in his anger. "You rushing to risk yourself is your choice to make, if you don't care about dying than I couldn't care any less, but this situation is different and it interferes directly with my job and my men's work. So, no, I won't allow you to put them at risk as well."

"SHE COULD BE DYING!" He finally screamed, losing the last grasp of his control.

"Yeah, I get that," Wayne exhaled, his anger in control once again, though Harry could still see it lingering in his eyes. "Thankfully the meeting with the French DMLE went as expected. They seem to be on the edge with this kidnapping, to be quite honest. I'm not sure if it's because Damon is such a powerful figure or because the veela community in France is so big."

"Perhaps it's both," Harry said, trying to get his breathing under control. He didn't have the time to lose his cool right now. "They could be getting squeezed from both sides."

"They probably are," He agreed, opening his drawer and fetching a cigar from a huge box inside it. He whispered something so low Harry didn't hear, but a small flame appeared on the tip of his index finger, which he used to light the cigar in his lips. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke sit in his mouth before closing his eyes and exhaling it in a puff of smoke. Harry knew that particular look of satisfaction.

"Been trying to quit?" He asked, finally sitting in one of the remaining chairs in the room and running a hand through his hair.

"Dependency is usually frowned upon in my line of work."

"How's that working for you?" He asked, trying to force a smile down.

"I swear that I'll have you arrested one of these days, just to have the satisfaction of closing the cell's door myself," Wayne muttered, throwing a cigar in his direction.

"One of these days I might just let you," Harry said. "Maybe when all of my wives get their periods synchronized."

The scarring thought forced a laugh to scape Wayne's lips — a sudden, loud laugh.

"Whatever. Stop trying to garner pity because you'll be getting married to a bunch of hot women," He complained, smiling around his cigar.

"You could get married too, you fucker. Get a divorce from your job and find a real human being instead."

"Can't," Wayne stated, shaking his head. "This is a full-time job. And when I say full-time, I mean full fucking time. There is a never-ending pile of paperwork to fill out and an equally big line of people coming to this office at all times to get my approval for missions that have to happen in the same instant. I cannot leave, it's just as much a prison as it is a job."

"So quit, then," Harry suggested — a daring look on his face even though he knew Wayne would never do so.

Before he could respond, however, there was a knock on the door. He pursued his lips, probably unhappy to have his point exemplified so soon. As he got up to open the door, he shot a frustrated glare Harry's way, as if to say: See what I mean?

"They found her, sir," the auror said, promptly, as soon as the door was opened.

"But they don't have her." It wasn't a question, Wayne was just confirming what he already knew.

"No, they don't. Apparently, she is being kept on a house in Lille, but it's protected by several layers of wards. The french aurors claim to not know several of them and are hesitant to try to force themselves inside the house in case she gets hurts in the process."

"I see," Wayne said. "I assume we have offered to help?"

"Yes, and they have accepted it. We are sending a team to France as soon as you sign these off," he said, pointing to the papers in his hand.

"Come back in fifteen," Wayne ordered, grabbing the stack.

"Sir," the auror nodded, leaving at once.

"Don't even start with me," Wayne ordered again, this time looking at Harry as he closed the door. He sat on his table and began reading the papers in front of him.

"You know that-" Harry began, trying to reason with the man.

"I said, don't start with me. I'm not going to entertain your hero complex right now, this is much more important. You are nothing to this girl, stop pretending to be. We are more than capable of rescuing her ourselves."

There was no way Wayne didn't understand how precarious the situation was. Gabrielle could be in any sort of environment.

"She doesn't have the time-"

"I'm the one who doesn't have the time. This is just one case — we get hundreds every day. I won't change the protocol for her, desist." The head of the DMLE interrupted him again, running out of patience.

"You cannot really stop me," Harry pointed out.

"I said, desist!" Wayne demanded strongly, hitting the desk and causing several things to fall off of it. "You are not above the law, Harry Potter. Don't pretend to be."

"I'm not saying I'm above the law. But it's stupid to shut me out like that, Wayne." He tried to reason with the man, as calmly as he could.

"Go home, Harry," He carried on, ignoring every word Harry had just spoken. "I'll inform you of any changes, okay?"

It was as much of an order as Wayne would ever give when it came to him, so Harry chose to pay heed to it. He needed to see Blaise, anyway. After so many hours, Harry had no doubts the Slytherin would have some answers.

"I'll leave you to your job, then," Harry agreed, moving to the door.

Just as he had grabbed the doorknob to open said door and leave, Wayne's voice rang through the room.

"Let me know what Zabini finds, will you?"

At the question, Harry turned to face him, trying to mask his surprise as best as he could.

"What?" He asked. "I gave the flowers to your aurors. They are inspecting it, or so I assume."

Wayne rolled his eyes, good-naturedly: "I know you. Blaise will work faster than any Ministry worker ever could. Inform me if he finds anything important, okay?"

"Fine," He agreed, nodding his head and turning to leave once again.

This time, he wasn't interrupted.

.......................................................

Harry apparated directly inside Blaise's private lab. He knew, without a doubt, that Blaise would have lowered all his wards for him, and he was proven right when he landed softly on the stone floor of his gigantic laboratory.

"You've been gone for over six hours," Blaise pointed out as soon as he landed, not bothering to raise his head to look at him. He appeared to be focused on a potion, instead.

From the tightness in his jaw, Harry could tell how angry the potions master was, even if his words lacked any inflection that could indicate his state of mind. Not that he had been expecting anything other than anger coming from Blaise, to be honest. Despite the lackadaisical attitude he often tried to portray, Harry knew Blaise enough to predict his reaction with perfect accuracy.

His large workbench was filled with jars, ingredients, and different knives. All of which he had already used, Harry guessed, seeing as he was bent over the steaming copper cauldron.

"Wayne politely _asked_ for my presence," Harry informed, going for the straightforward attitude too. "What have you found?"

"It was a potion," He hissed the words through his teeth, quickly losing the indifferent mask. "It was a mixture of three different potions, actually. Bitch had help from a potion master; I have no doubts. No one would mix potions like this — with this precision — without proper help."

Harry said nothing, running a hand through his hair. He grabbed it by the roots and pulled, hard. Fuck that shit. How many people were involved in Krum's little plan?

"A love potion, a compulsion potion, and a weakness potion," The Slytherin carried on, despite Harry's lack of response. "Strong potions, which makes the idea to use the flowers a stroke of genius."

"Explain this to me," Harry pleaded, moving to sit on one of the uncomfortable stools Blaise had in his lab.

"These potions were meant to be ingested," Blaise began, killing the fire under the cauldron and facing forward, finally. "They generate immediate results and are easily identified if you know what to look for. Like I said, that mediocre Barbie must have gotten help from a potion master because infusing potions on plants is not an easy task by any means. Especially on a fragile flower like this."

Blaise moved to bottle the potion, lacking his usual smooth moves and gestures. The jerkiness with which Blaise was currently moving gave away his real feelings, even if his words wouldn't.

"If Hermione had ingested any of these potions I would have been able to tell straight away, which is probably why she searched for an alternative method," He carried on. "The compulsion potion can't be brewed in less than three weeks, so she either bought from someone who already had it — which is way less likely — or she has been planning this from quite some while."

"I figured," Harry agreed, placing both his elbows on the bench and balancing his head on his hands. "This doesn't sound like a casual thought. But it does lead me to my next question: If she planned this so carefully, why is she fleeing the country? I mean, this makes no sense."

"My hypothesis is that she imagined Hermione would place the flowers in your bedroom or the kitchen, where you three spend the most of your time together. The quantity of potion soaked in these flowers is enough to work on way more than one person — if the goal was for it to be subtle, which I'd bet it was. However, because Hermione chose to put them in her office — where she spends so much of her time — the focus was entirely on her. What was supposed to be a subtle compulsion working on the three of you became a mind-altering compulsion on Hermione alone."

As he spoke, Blaise became tenser and tenser, until he could do nothing else but hiss the last words out. His hands, however, were steady and firm while bottling the mud-colored potion in several small glass jars.

"Perhaps that's why she gave the necklace to Hermione so soon," Harry tried to guess. "She realized Hermione was acting out of character much earlier than she was supposed to, so she tried to pretend they were having some sort of love at first glance sort of thing."

"It could be," Blaise agreed, looking Harry in the eyes for the first time. "I don't know how Hermione realized the flowers were the problem, Harry. Even if Krum made a mistake like that, and chose a flower that was supposed to die in two days, it shouldn't be possible to break the compulsion like that. She didn't drink it, which works in our favor, but it's still potent enough to overcome that sort of rational connection Hermione managed to make."

"Hermione doing the impossible doesn't surprise me as much as it probably should," He admitted. "But Krum fled the country, Blaise. She went back to Bulgaria — that fucking bitch. The government won't help us, and our Ministry can't enter a diplomatic war with them on our account, so basically we're stuck until this case is judged and she is found guilty."

Blaise didn't blink. In fact, he almost seemed to be perfectly still. The information didn't seem to shock him. He looked at Harry in the eyes and asked the question they both knew was coming:

"When are we leaving?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo? Don't leave me hanging, alright? I need reviews to know what you think will happen next!


	26. The Making Of A Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the drama of Harry Potter: the show! No, I'm just kidding. Things are getting pretty heated up for our fellows here and the stress is surrounding all of them. This chapter has some answers for y'all…
> 
> A special thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited this story. You guys rock!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing. Not one single thing in here.

When Harry stepped into his living room, he was greeted by Neville and Susan, who sat side by side on the sofa sharing a cup of tea. Both of them got up from their positions as soon as they saw him, their expression one of anxiety.

"How are you?" Susan asked simultaneously to her husband's demand.

"Where have you been?"

Harry noticed that neither of his girls where there, although Ginny's shoes where still left discarded on their carpet.

"I've been locked in Wayne's office in the Ministry while he tried to find Krum and Gabrielle," He responded to Neville's inquire, ignoring Susan question altogether. He had no wish to entertain thoughts on feelings at the moment. He needed to be rational, functional. "When I left, he still had neither of them. Bulgaria is refusing to cooperate with our government and Gabrielle is being kept in a house the aurors haven't been able to access yet."

"That sneaky shank," Susan cursed, sounding angrier than Harry had ever seen her. He didn't know if it was because of the pregnancy hormones or if she took the slight against Hermione personally. Harry couldn't help but agree with her words, even though he thought they didn't even begin to cover the list of insults he had going through his mind.

Neville accio'ed a bottle of whiskey before handing it over to Harry's awaiting hands. He didn't bother with glasses or ice, which Harry appreciated. That wasn't the time to savor his drink, he just wanted the burning feeling. He opened the bottle and swallowed a mouthful straight away.

"Hermione crashed about a half-hour ago," Susan explained, speaking while he drank. "Pansy came over and tried to calm her down as best as she could, but you know how Hermione gets when she's anxious — she wanted to be here when you came back. Her magic was very depleted, however, and it wore her down. She passed out in the middle of a sentence while speaking to Pansy, so we moved her to your bed upstairs."

"Pansy went home to check on Blaise but promised to come back as soon as she made sure the idiot hadn't killed himself in his lab," Neville carried on, offering him a sympathetic look when Harry dropped the bottle for a second to catch a breath.

"I just came from Blaise's," Harry admitted. "She must have taken the opportunity to shower or sleep because she wasn't in his lab. He had just finished inspecting the damn flower and was brewing a stabilizing potion for Hermione. Apparently, the bitch went for the kill, because she mixed three different potions in an attempt to influence all three of us. Blaise still doesn't know how Hermione managed to fight the compulsion."

"She tried to explain a little," His fellow Gryffindor, said. "It appears that the necklace Krum gave to her had some sort of compulsion spell in it as well, and when she put it on, she realized the instant feeling of loyalty to the girl felt somewhat familiar to what she was already feeling, and it made her suspicious. When you asked her to take it off it became clear that she was under some sort of magical influence, so she began to try and fight it off."

"It must not have been easy, though, because she is exhausted," Susan completed, sitting back down. "If the dose was indeed intended for you three then it's truly amazing that she managed to break the compulsion."

"Yeah, Hermione is one of a kind," Harry agreed, fighting a smile. His life might not be so great at the moment, but knowing how hard Hermione must have fought gave him the strength to carry on as well. "I'll go check on the girls now — see how they're doing. You should go home; get some rest. I'll call you if we need anything, okay?"

Neville looked at his wife, seeming torn between wanting her to rest and staying there to support them. Susan also looked divided, but quite tired as well.

"Seriously, go," Harry said, taking another sip of the whiskey in front of him before closing the lid. He couldn't afford to get drunk, not yet.

"Fine," Neville decided, probably fighting against his own sleep at that point. "But floo us if you need anything, alright? I mean it, anything. I know when you're about to do something ridiculous and dangerous, and I want to be there to cover your back."

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, slapping him on the shoulder and feeling a surge of appreciation for the man in front of him. Neville had always got his back. He looked at Susan. "You take care of that baby."

After that, he didn't wait for them to go home, he simply turned and ran up the stairs, eager to see his girlfriends. He opened the door carefully, however, trying not to make a sound. Hermione needed to rest.

"Harry!" Ginny wasn't so careful, though, screaming his name the second he stepped into their room. She rose from the bed and came forward to hug him tightly. "You've been gone for too long, I almost thought something had happened at the Ministry."

He hugged her back just as tightly, enjoying the warm feeling of her touch. "Nothing happened. Wayne tried to reason with me, but he knows he has no legs to stand on. The truth is that they have nothing."

"Where is she?" She demanded, making it clear who she was.

"Krum fled the country minutes before I arrived at the Ministry, leaving in a hurry. No doubts she knew Hermione broke the compulsion somehow and fled to hide somewhere. The portkey was for Bulgaria, but we don't even know if she's still there or not, as their Ministry is covering their asses."

"But our aurors…"

"Can't enter foreign territory without a proper trial. Wayne has opened the process, but who knows how long it will take them to examine the evidence and convict her," He explained, releasing his hold of her. "We can't wait that long. We need to go after her ourselves, or we are going to lose track of her."

"Harry, you can't just run off after this girl," Ginny pointed out, spitting out the word girl. "Trust me, I want to get my hands on her just as much as you do, but you're bound to this process, Harry. You need to be here for tomorrow's meeting. I don't know if Hermione told you this, but it will be a ball at the Malfoy's."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, ready to start pulling it from the roots at any minute. The stress was building up inside him and he knew that, sooner or later, he would explode. The problems kept on coming, one after the other, while nothing was getting fixed.

"I don't have time for a fucking ball, Ginny, are you kidding me?" He said, pacing around the bedroom. "Even if I don't go after Krum, someone needs to do something about Gabrielle. Her mother had her kidnaped, Ginny. Her freaking mother! And, to make matters worse, she hired the shadiest guys she could find and let them know her daughter is a part-veela. Merlin only knows what those people are doing to her right now. They've gone completely off the plan they had arranged with Appoline — it's clear they don't intend to give her back."

He could hear the sharp intake of breath coming from his girlfriend, but couldn't force himself to turn around to face her shocked face. It was enough that his mind didn't stop picturing all the possible horrors Gabrielle could be facing — in details. It was impossible to dismiss; unbearable to withstand. The war had made him witness things Harry had rather remained unknown. What he had seen could never be forgotten, but he had expected to move on with his life in a way that didn't force him to keep on watching the perversity of the world.

It was one of the reasons Harry had decided against pursuing an Auror career. He had seen blood, and death, and rapes, and torture. Having a piece of Voldemort's soul meant he saw much more than the others. Even at night, when he should've been allowed hours of sleep, the visions of the Death Eater's raids hunted him.

"Why would her mother-" Ginny began, clearly not understanding anything.

"She resents me for her husband lack of success in politics," He tried to explain, frustrated with the woman petty motives.

"Lack of success? Isn't he an important member of their wizengamot?"

"Yes, but in her mind, he could be much more. He had plans to be the Minister for Magic of France before our war here but decided to fight for more noble causes after witnessing the tragedy we lived. Damon became a big supporter of civil rights for all species and for the regulation of dark magic." Harry couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth even as he spoke 'em. It seemed like such a small reason to have one's own daughter kidnapped. "Obviously his choices were unpopular, which turned him into a kind of French Dumbledore — a leader of the light followed by many, but with a big rejection percentage."

"No," Ginny shook her head. "No mother would have… she couldn't have done this because of… no way."

"I wished I was lying, my love," He carried on explaining. "Anyway, when Gabrielle shared that she had entered The Announcement, Appoline couldn't handle the idea of having her daughter marrying the man she considered to be responsible for her husband failure. She hates me; that is the bottom line. She hates me with a passion, for disturbing the peace of her world and for daring to try to steal her remaining daughter. The woman detests Bill and your whole family and believes you all to be beneath Fleur. Gabrielle is her only remaining chance — in her mind — at a social climbing."

"That's vile," Ginny finally said, waving her arms around as she spoke. "I can't believe she would be so cruel with Gabrielle. And Bill! Bill is great, how dare that woman judge him just because he was born in a poor family. Fuck her. Gabrielle is sixteen, for the love of Merlin. She must be so scared!"

"I know, and I agree," Harry said. "The aurors can't go past the wards around the house where Gabrielle is being held hostage, and who knows how many hours it will take for them to find a way. We can't wait, Ginny; she can't wait. I can destroy the wards, and I saw from Wayne's file where she is. I need to go."

Ginny rubbed her face in frustration, groaning at his words.

"You cannot go, Harry. I meant it when I said you needed to be here for the meeting tomorrow. You are literally bound; you know that. If you leave right now, there are no guarantees you'll get it done before tomorrow. And Hermione… she needs you right now."

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?" He screamed, reaching the end of his patience. "I FUCKING KNOW, GINNY, BUT GABRIELLE COULD BE DYING. DOES NO ONE ELSE CARES ABOUT HER LIFE?"

"Don't you yell at me," She demanded, glaring at him before looking pointedly at their girlfriend's sleeping body. "Don't you dare. I want to help Gabrielle just as much as you do; I'm just trying to be reasonable about it. We are not kids fighting a war anymore, Harry, we don't get to drop everything and do what we want. We have responsibilities and people depending on us."

"As oppose to the zero people I had depending on me back then?" He hissed the words out, trying to keep himself from yelling again. "I don't know what war you lived in, but from what I remember we had some big fucking responsibilities already. It was up to us to deal with the decisions and it is up to us right now as well. We cannot pretend otherwise. If she dies, then it's on our heads."

"Our heads? If Gabrielle dies it's on her mother's head, it's on the men she hired to the dirty job heads, not ours. Don't try to throw this at me," Ginny hissed back. "If you run after Gabrielle right now you could very well put her life in danger because your magic will bring you back to the meeting no matter what you're doing. What if you're inside the house? What if you're fighting the men who took her?"

"I don't know, but anything is better than not being able to do shit," He admitted, slamming his body against the wall behind him and allowing himself to slide to the floor. "I can't handle not being able to do anything. Krum has escaped our grasp, Gabrielle is trapped in a house, and Hermione had to break the compulsion by herself… I feel useless."

"I understand," Ginny crunched in front of him and took hold of his hand. "How do you think I feel? We're used to getting things done, I know. But we must do things right this time, okay? We'll get past tomorrow, and I promise you I'll go with you to get Gabrielle back."

Harry knew she meant it; he could see it in her eyes, the need to help the half-veela. Ginny was struggling to stay put, but she also knew that in a war sometimes you had to compromise in order to win the fight. Ron had always been to one to say that. They were right, of course. He would simply have to wait one more day.

"After tomorrow we'll have one week until the next meeting," He informed, forming a plan of action on the spot. "Blaise wants to go after Krum, as do I. We'll leave right after the meeting, as soon as Hermione falls asleep — she's too fragile to go now. Blaise will leave for Bulgaria, and we'll go to France. After we get Gabrielle to safety you come back here with her, and I'll go meet Blaise."

"What? No way," She rejected his plan. "I want to go with you."

"Hermione can't be alone right now," He pointed out, trying to choose the words that would sway her decision. "She needs one of us here."

She wanted to argue, he could see it in her eyes. But she also agreed that Hermione needed them, which prevented her from arguing any further. It had been a shitty move to use her love for Hermione against her, but Harry would do anything to keep her safe, even if it meant manipulating her just a tiny bit.

"Deal?"

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," She said, looking him right in the eyes as she spoke. "I'll follow your plan for now, fine, but make no mistakes. If I suspect you're getting into trouble — if I even imagine you're putting your life in danger — then I'll go after you Harry, and it won't be pretty. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you."

And he did. Harry knew that Ginny wouldn't hesitate to act if she thought was necessary, which was another trait they shared. However, he had no intention of letting her get involved with Krum — it would be simply too risky, after what happened. No, he would make sure both his girls were safe this time.

"Then yes, you have yourself a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave your comments on this chapter, okay? It's always amazing to hear your opinions on everything.


	27. The Third Meeting, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you guys. I've been traveling quite a lot lately, so it's been kind of tough to find the time to sit my ass down to edit and post. But I'm here now, so please don't kill the writer, okay?
> 
> It's always lovely to hear all the kind words in the reviews, so make sure to leave one for this chapter. And I also want to thank everyone who has favorited or followed this story — the amount of love this work had been getting is blowing my mind!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything related to the Harry Potter world. I'm just a player.

The opulence was blinding, and it took Harry a minute to process all that was happening in the room as he stepped inside it. There were ice sculptures, fountains of what looked like wine, and a never-ending table filled with the sort of fancy finger food Harry detested. All in all, it was what one could expect when invited to a Malfoy ball.

The room was already filled with all the guests, who were mingling and dancing around. It wasn't a surprise — they were quite late. But the elbow in his ribs made it known that his girlfriend was not happy with their tardiness.

"I told you it was unpolite to get here so late," Hermione scolded, speaking like her normal self for the first time since he found her trashing her home office.

"We're the star of the party, it's fine," Ginny joked, trying to calm the nerves. She was fazed by their late arrival — probably because she knew the reason why Harry had been locked in his own office all afternoon.

"Yeah, that way they'll all turn to see your beautiful dress." He laid on the compliment quite thick, hoping she didn't call him out for it. A guy could try, right?

"You're awful at this," Hermione stated, but relaxed a little, nonetheless. She smoothed the front of her dress before turning to look at him. "Do you really like this dress?"

He did, in fact. And if his head hadn't been filled with all the planning for his imminent trip, he would've said something the moment he had laid his eyes on her a while ago. It would be a shame if she never wore it again, after all.

He grabbed her hand, raising it to his lips for a moment. "Hermione, you look beautiful everyday... But, I gotta say, tonight you look extraordinary, my love."

"Well, I look hot too," Ginny interrupted their moment, probably to warn them of their host's arrival.

"How nice of you three to come to your own meeting," The Slytherin mocked, making a show of extending his arm to welcome them into his house. "One would think this doesn't interest you at all."

"Shut up, ferret," Harry said. "Maybe we're not anxious to eat your fancy, crappy food."

"I waste good food on you, Potter," Draco stated, disgusted with Harry's lack of paladar for his fine cuisine.

"No you don't," Ginny said, already moving towards the table. "I'll eat for him. Don't you worry your pretty, pointy head."

"You'll end up fat as a whale, Weasley, and there will be no broom big enough to lift you off the ground."

"Why, you fucking-" She began before Astoria came to stand next to her husband.

"Good evening," She welcomed. A perfect host, as always. "It's lovely to welcome you back into our house. Please don't leave without trying the deserts — they are simply amazing."

"There's no need for you to worry about that," Draco assured, hugging her from behind. "Weasley will eat all she can find."

"Draco!" Astoria reprimanded. "How dare you? That's no way to treat a lady. Especially when you have been eating since the moment you stepped into this room."

"Is that so?" Harry asked, feeling a satisfied smile blossom on his face at the scandalized face Draco currently had.

"I have not! This is absurd," He denied, releasing his wife and turning to walk away.

"He's so sensitive about his image," Astoria said, shaking her head lightly. She turned and gave them a satisfied smile. "It's quite silly, to be honest. I'll just have to make sure he eats no more sweets tonight — if you'll excuse me."

As soon as she left Ginny exclaimed: "Merlin, I think I love this woman."

"No you don't," Hermione said. "But I have to agree that she is a force to behold. Only Astoria would have the patience to live with Malfoy — he's still so bloody annoying."

"I still question her sanity, though," Harry interjected, following them to the food table. "She did agree to marry the ferret on her own free will. Either she's nuts or she's nuts, there's just no other possibility here."

"I don't know about that, the house is quite lovely."

"Quite lovely? If you arrange it carefully an entire village could live here without having to see one another for the duration of their lives," Harry said, grimacing at the food in front of them. "What's wrong with food with names you can actually pronounce?"

"Oh, grow up, Harry," Ginny said, picking the first thing she saw in front of her and eating it without the slightest worry for what it was.

Harry turned to look at Hermione and she had an equally amazed expression on her face at their girlfriend appetite. Weasley were, indeed, a special bunch.

.........................................................

One less girl to worry about.

That was Harry's thought as he watched Tracy leave the Malfoy library. In his mind, fewer people meant fewer possibilities to worry about. Having fewer options didn't faze him — after Krum, Harry was decided to play it as safe as he could with his picks of wives. With a relationship that was as high-profile as theirs, trying to be trusting and open with their choice had been a mistake from the start.

Blaise interrupted his train of thought as he strolled into the library seconds after his fellow Slytherin had left, in a clear show of eavesdropping on his part. It didn't bother him to be spied on by his friend — Blaise had always been too curious for his own good. What did bother him was the constant flow of people invading a place he had gone to hide from the party — how were all these people finding him there?

"What was that about?" He asked, managing to look effortlessly classy even as he threw his body onto the chair Harry had been standing in front of.

"You know," Harry commented. "I was sitting there."

"This is the comfiest chair," Blaise explained as if that was a perfectly good explanation for his rude behavior.

"Right, of course," He said, deciding to just roll with the Italian's quirkiness rather than further complain about it. No one said having a Slytherin, pureblood Lord as a best friend was a low-maintenance job.

"So, are you going to spill or what?" Blaise questioned, impatient as ever.

"Why are we pretending like you weren't hearing the whole conversation from outside?" He asked. When the only answer he received was a blank stare, Harry signed and went straight to the point. "She wanted to leave. I'm not too surprised, actually. Daphne makes her uncomfortable."

"Leave? As in leave this whole competition or as in leaving this ball, tonight?"

Harry felt the grimace on his face at the word competition. Despite the pretty name and glamour around it, that's exactly what the process was: a competition for a place in the golden household. There was always an interest; there was always a plan.

"Leave the competition," He forced himself to say the word, knowing it would do him some good to remind himself out loud of just how tactical his choice of brides should be. "Gave some nice excuses, too. We all know better, however."

"Can't say I'm not surprised," Blaise admitted, for once looking taken back by the news. "I would have thought Daphne's presence would serve as an incentive for her to stay. Ever since they had their disagreement Tracy has been trying to make amends with our Ice Queen."

"What's their deal, anyway?" Harry asked. "Weren't they best friends or something?"

"Or something," Blaise agreed, slouching further back into the chair and throwing his legs over its right arm. "They were on and off lovers during school, though anyone with an eye could see Tracy was much more involved than Daphne. She often trailed after Daphne, like a lost puppy, doing whatever the girl wanted... They had a fallout after Tracy tried to convince her to officialize their relationship, and confessed her undying love."

"Did she, really?"

"Oh, yes. Tracy may joke about me, but we all know she's the least Slytherin to ever grace the dungeons of Hogwarts. I'm not even sure how she managed to get sorted into the snake's pit in the first place. A declaration of love like that is too exposing, too risky. Any Slytherin worth its salt would've never diminished themselves like that over a school crush."

Harry had to control himself to prevent an eye-roll at the ridiculous games the Slytherin forced themselves to play. No one, from any other house, would see love as a diminishing feeling — quite the opposite, in fact.

"It does seem a little harsh to end a friendship over that," He pointed out, trying to judge from a neutral point of view.

"Daphne knew how much Tracy was involved," Blaise explained. "If she hadn't cut Tracy from her life, the girl would've never let her go. In the end, she was actually protecting Tracy from further pain — or at least she believes so. As an heir to her family, Daphne would've never been able to give Tracy what she wanted — and there's no way she would've given her tittle up, for anyone. By that point Astoria had already agreed to the betrothal contract with Draco, so she couldn't bear the Greengrass heir if her sister chose to live a life of debauchery with Davis."

"But I don't see how that would be a problem," Harry said, finally sitting down on another perfectly fine chair next to Blaise. "Why couldn't they blood adopt a child, like I'm about to do?"

"It's too difficult, she could never risk it," He shook his head. "You know how many magical children are available to be adopted currently here, in Britain? None. Children are almost sacred here, you know it. There are many families who would be more than happy to adopt any children who had a magical background. The only option would've been finding a wizard to donate sperm, but that would've been too uncertain with our laws. If the father ever decided to contest their claim of the children, Daphne could — would — lose her child."

"How about a friend?" He asked, pondering on the subject. "You could've donated some."

"Don't ever say that near Pansy," The Slytherin warned, sounding serious. "To ask for another's man sperm, knowing he's married, is a great offense for purebloods — as a lady, Daphne could never do that without greatly offending someone."

"What? Why? That makes no sense, at all. If a friend of mine asked, I would like to think that I would have no problem with helping them to have a baby."

"You're clueless," Blaise dismissed with a wave of a hand. "And that's why you're lucky to have me and Ginger, otherwise you'd have screwed up a long time ago. In the same way the guy would have the possibility to ask for the guard of the child, if Daphne birthed a male kid, she could ask for family rights. If the man had no other prior male heir himself, then the child would be named heir of the house."

"I swear you, pureblood, try to complicate matters as often as possible in as many ways as you can," He proclaimed, once again shocked by the many intricate layers of rules the purebloods created for themselves.

"We're powerful, old, magical individuals," Blaise drowned on, repeating the same mind-numbing argument Harry had heard millions of times before. "Without proper rules and etiquette, the whole system would fall into chaos."

"If you all didn't create so many rules to obey and get offended by, the chances of chaos would largely dimish."

"Regardless, as I was saying, she had no choice but to sever connection with Tracy. As a halfblood, Tracy had much less understanding of our rules back then and reacted as one would expect in face of rejection. She began to try everything she could to change Daphne's mind," Blaise carried on, ignoring Harry's point, before adding uselessly. "All of which our Queen ignored."

"Perhaps she shouldn't have, or she could be in a different situation right now," Harry said sharply, but not without kindness.

Although he still burned with anger at what had happened to Daphne — and wished for the name still — he would never wish for the child she carried to fall at harm. After Daphne signed the contract, it would be his child, after all.

His first kid.

The Italian gave no outward sign that he had heard the words, other than the clenching of his jaw. The same need for revenge was stamped on his face a second later, however, when he rose from his chair.

"Trust me, there will be a name," The Italian promised, mostly talking to himself.

"I don't doubt you." And he didn't. "Just promise to leave a piece for me and we're good."

"I'm making no such promise."

Harry could see in his friend's face how much he cared for Daphne — how this was a big deal for him. It was that knowledge that prompted him to ask something that popped into his mind.

"Say, Blaise," He tried to go for the casual drawn the Italian had mastered so well. "Would you be the godfather to my child?"

Instantly the man turned his head, facing Harry with a surprised and gobsmacked face. He had expected no less, of course. It was a big deal to be asked of such thing in the wizarding world.

Being a godparent came with great responsibilities and privileges. If Harry and Daphne ever died, the guard of his child — as well as their money and title — would fall into the hands of the godparent until such time as they would reach seventeen.

Traditionally, the choice of godfather was the father's and the mother was supposed to choose the godmother. However, if he thought that Daphne wouldn't have liked his choice, he would've talked to her first — but in that case, he didn't have to. Blaise was his friend, truth, but he was also a Slytherin, a pureblood, and a potions master. Daphne wouldn't complain.

"You want-" He stuttered, gapping like a fish. "But she... I mean, that's too-."

"Honestly, Blaise, one would think you were honored by my question," Harry dismissed, smiling largely at the rare opportunity to throw Blaise off his balance. "Just say yes and be done with it."

"Yes," He immediately said, not even protesting against the mocking. "Yes, of course, I'd love to."

"Thank you," Harry said, allowing his expressing to morph into a more soft look. He was touched by the man's show of feelings.

"I should be the one thanking you, no?" Blaise said, shaking his head. "This is an honor for me; I can't even believe."

"Well, don't raise my kid to be a Slytherin if I die, okay?"

"Are you kidding me? That's Daphne child you're talking about, if it ends up in any other house I'll eat my own hand."

.............................................................

Not many minutes after Blaise left, the very woman they had been talking about entered the room. Apparently, his choice of place to hide had been a rather terrible one, seeing as the whole party had no trouble whatsoever to find him there.

"You're going after the Delacour child," Daphne said, handing him the contract back. It wasn't a question, but rather a confident statement. "It's signed... husband." She added after an intentional pause.

"Not yet," He corrected, not surprised by her irony nor her knowledge of his plans. "We leave tonight."

"I see," She murmured, looking somewhat calculating. "Blase seems a touch more angry than what I would expect from a person about to rescue a lady. That would not have anything to do with the absence of a fellow participant tonight, would it?"

Harry was sure that his face told the whole story for him, and he made no move to conceal it. The homicidal rage inside him wasn't something he felt ashamed of. Daphne was to be his wife soon, it was better that she was under no illusion as to who she was tying herself to.

"Krum made a mistake, I'm merely on my way to show it to her."

A blond eyebrow rose in disbelief at his attempt at nonchalant.

"Is that correct?" Daphne asked. "Would my assistance be helpful?"

Harry was surprised she even cared enough to offer, but rejected the idea straight away, the last place be would want his pregnant fiance to be was next to a dangerous nutjob like Krum.

"No!" He said forcefully, sliding his glance to her stomach. "Absolutely not."

The forceful words seemed to surprise her, but Harry was more concerned with the possessive thoughts running through his mind. Since when did he consider Daphne to be his?

"I'm not an invalid just because I'm a few weeks pregnant," She argued. "I would thank you not to treat me like one."

"You've offered your help; I've declined it. Get off your high horse," He said, suddenly feeling the need to take charge of the actions happening in his life. The need to keep as many save as he could began to burn anew inside him, shortcutting his brain. "I need you elsewhere."

"Where?" Daphne asked, more politely than he expected after his rude statement.

"Hermione doesn't know I'm leaving, and Ginny will be going with me," He explained, quickly formulating a plan. "She's... not one-hundred percent, but she'll never admit it. I need you to stay at our house with her while we're away — if I send Pansy it will be too obvious she's on babysitting duty."

"And you think she'll allow me — a virtual stranger — to look after her?"

"No, I don't. You need to trick her into believing she's the one taking care of you, instead. "

"This is a horrendous plan."

"Are you a Slytherin or not?"

"Indeed, I am a Slytherin, as you keep pointing out. It does not mean, however, that your little plan will work," She said, before conceding. "Be as you wish. I'll do as you say, but don't expect her to fall for this — she will be angry that you're leaving the country without telling her in advance."

"It doesn't matter if she's angry or not, I need her to be safe. I can deal with her temper afterward."

"As a contestant, I cannot be alone with her," She pointed out.

"Shit," Harry cursed. He had forgotten about that damn rule. "I'll arrange something, don't worry about that. I'll also change the wards tonight so that you can floo in tomorrow. Stay in whichever room you like in the house, there's plenty of space available."

"Alright," Daphne agreed, nodding her head in agreement. "I'll agree to stay there until you return, but let it be known that I believe this plan to be ridiculous. The chances of it going wrong are enormous."

"Noted," He consented, ready for a change of subject. He knew it was a terrible idea to leave without telling Hermione, she didn't have to point it out to him, but he had no choice. If he said anything, she would never agree to stay behind.

Before he could stop himself, the words spilled out from Harry's mouth.

"Tracy has left the competition," He said, once again forcing himself to use the word. Competition. He had to get into that mindset. "Do you know what happened?"

It was instantaneous. Harry hadn't realized how relaxed Daphne had been during their conversation — well, perhaps not relaxed, but as close to it as she had ever been with him — and the change was brusque and sharp. One second she was full of facial expression, and the next she was a wearing the blank mask again.

"I did not know," She answered, flat-toned. "Did she not give you her reasons?"

"She did, yes," He said, beyond curious with her reaction to his question. Just how much stuff was Daphne hiding? "I'm just surprised she chose to leave so early on in the process. It has only been three weeks, after all. Tracy only said she believes she won't be compatible with my choices — which it's surprising, considering I have yet to announce any choice to the girls."

The silence that followed his words gave a lot away. It was clear that Daphne did not know how to respond to his questionings, and he began to feel bad for pushing her against the wall all of a sudden like that. Whatever happened between the girls was still clearly unresolved, but it was not his business. If they wished to spend the rest of their lives not talking to each other, then who was he to try to force the issue?

"You know what?" He said, at last, moving towards the door. "Never mind, it's not like one less girl will make a difference anyway. Let's go after some food, shall we? I'm fucking starving."

And perhaps it was the mention of food, but her expression lightened almost instantly and she moved to follow him out of the enormous library.

"I could eat." It was all she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This meeting was divided into two parts, so next chapter is still the ball. Xoxo


	28. The Third Meeting, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still cannot believe this chapter. I cannot believe I was the one to write it. I won't keep you all in suspense any longer, just go read it. And please read the bottom note I have at the end of the chapter — it's important.
> 
> Thank you for all the love and support, guys.
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me — just the plot. The plot is mine. I hope.

The dinner was annoyingly formal, as one would expect from a Malfoy ball. Harry had hoped that the ferret would loosen up, seeing as it was only a small group of people — who were all there for plenty of different reasons other than dancing and socializing. In hindsight, it had been a naive wish — it was still Malfoy, after all.

They were all sat at the enormous table, eating plate after plate of tiny food magically appearing in front of them. It was the opposite of the family, cozy dinner he usually had at home with his girls, and, to be quite frank, it was very boring. The food was more interesting to look at than to eat and the conversation felt stiff and formal around the huge table — where one would have to scream to reach the other side.

Harry had left the safety of the library to eat but was quickly regretting his decision. Once the whole ninety-nine courses ended, he planned to disappear as soon as he could back there to try and find some silence.

Giving up on trying to concentrate on the conversation Ginny was having with Carrow on his left side, Harry decided to have some fun riling Hermione up. She sat immediately to his right, having pushed her chair to be as close to him as she possibly could without actually invading his personal space. She had been standing closer than usual to him all night long, and by the time dinner had rolled around no one seemed surprised when Hermione chose to sit by his side.

Trying to be as discreet as he could, Harry put his hand on her knee under the tablecloth, thankful for the flowy skirt she had decided to use that evening. In his peripheral vision, he could see her sharp, sudden glance in his direction, but didn't move his head to meet her eyes. If Hermione had been truly displeased she would've moved his hand — he knew. Instead, he allowed his fingers to trace the inner side of her tights softly, pushing her skirt up as he did so.

With his other hand, he reached for the wine, hiding his satisfied smirk with a sip. Hermione was terrible at playing it cool, and soon enough she would start to give visible signs of frustration — which was one of the reasons he loved playing that sort of game with her. She would try to keep from fidgeting in her chair, but would inevitably fail at it.

His right hand continued to make its path on her leg, moving until he felt the fabric of her underwear. Harry lightly grazed his fingers over it, turning to face her and raise one eyebrow, knowing she would understand exactly what he was asking. He should've known she wasn't going to make it easy on him, though.

"Harry, baby, what are your thoughts on the fish?" She asked, in a rather poor attempt at distraction.

"I had never tried it with truffles before," He said, smirking at her. "But you know how I'm always open to new things."

Her eyes widened a bit, embarrassed by the words. Hermione wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, however, because her she opened her legs to give him space to move his fingers to where they both wanted it.

"What did you think of it?" He asked, pushing her panty to the side to caress her folds. He made sure to keep his voice as casual as possible, knowing it would further annoy his girlfriend.

He could see her lips parting a little, while she tried to resist the temptation of bitting it at the feeling. She closed her eyes for a second, and Harry took the opportunity to rub her clit, which made them pop wide open in surprise.

"Yes," She answered, throwing the words around with no meaning whatsoever to the question he had just asked. "Yes, I like."

"Do you?" He asked, knowing his voice was lower and filthier than it was appropriate but pass the point of caring.

"Harry," She whispered, needly, as he rubbed her in the same slow, teasing manner. He knew she wanted more, and he wanted to give it to her just as much.

Honestly, it couldn't have been more perfectly timed even if Harry had planned it in advance. The second his fingers moved lower to graze her entrance, Susan, who was seated directly in front of Hermione, called her name, making her jump a little forward in surprise, which, in turn, pushed both fingers inside her.

"Susan!" Hermione half yelled, half reprimanded, making quite a few people turn to look at her in surprise.

Harry once again moved to sip his wine and hide his gigantic smile behind the rim of his glass, impossibly amused at Hermione's inability to keep her emotions hidden. He could see Susan's puzzled face at Hermione's lame excuse for her surprise, which only served to entertain him further.

Yes, the dinner was quickly becoming Harry's favorite party of the evening, despite his initial displeasure. The food might have been awful, the entertainment... that was excellent.

..........................................................

It took only a couple of minutes to firecall George and ask him to stay at his place for a couple of days looking after Daphne and Hermione. It took a hell longer to explain the girls fragile emotional and physical states and demand a promise to not involve them in any kind of dangerous prank. But he did it.

"Was that my brother?" Ginny demanded, surprising him with her presence.

"Yeah," He agreed, looking around to confirm nobody else was lurking in the shadows. "I need someone to stay with Daphne and Hermione when we leave."

"What? Daphne is going to stay at our place?"

"I want you all close," Harry explained, trying to put his feelings into words that would make sense to her. "This... situation with Krum got me on the edge. Hermione will need company anyway, so I thought it was a good solution for the both of them."

"Daphne would be fine with Pansy," Ginny pointed out, giving him a pointed stare. "What's this really about? And don't give me bullshit."

"Our house is much safer than Blaise's. I'm not giving you bullshit, I honestly don't want any more trouble right not, okay? I want to get Gabrielle and strangle Krum — no more accidents along the way."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. He caved.

"Daphne offered to join us. I panicked," He admitted, rubbing his forehead. "She's fucking pregnant, I don't want her running around Europe after Krum. Shit, I don't want her anywhere near that deranged psychopath."

"And since Hermione and Daphne cannot be alone with each other..."

"I asked George to stay with them, yes."

"I doubt Daphne agreed to be a good girl and remain behind safe and sound. What did you say?"

"I told her Hermione is kind of unstable right now and asked Daphne to look after her while we were both gone," Harry said, knowing how it sounded.

"They're both going to be so pissed at you when they find out, you know that, right?"

"What did you want me to say? Daphne cannot go with us, it would be ridiculous. And it's not like she would've accepted my reasonings."

"Maybe it's 'cause they suck," She said, leaning against the wall next to him. When he gave no answer to that, she added. "People are starting to notice that you are playing hide and seek with them all through this meeting, you know."

Harry signed, closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around her middle. Ginny, for her part, didn't shy away from the contact at all, instead, choosing to rest her head in the crook of his neck before nuzzling it.

"I've been talking to Blaise, and Daphne, and Tracy, and George... Time has kind of slipped through my fingers," He confessed.

"Tracy? That's new."

"She decided to leave the competition."

That must have surprised her because instantly she shoved his shoulder in order to look him in the eyes.

"What? Why?" She demanded, curious as ever.

"Apparently there's a whole lot of history between her and Daphne that we know nothing about, and she made Tracy uncomfortable," Harry shared. "I don't know why she waited until today to leave, though."

"Really? I honestly cannot picture Daphne being into Tracy," Ginny said, frowning her nose at the thought. "They seem so different."

Harry shrugged, agreeing with her assessment but not caring enough to further the discussion. Until they knew more of the story it would be pointless to guess, and Daphne didn't act like she was ready to sit down and share her past love stories with them in any foreseeable future.

"It's less complicated this way, so let's be grateful," He said instead. "Since we weren't choosing her anyway."

"I wasn't aware that we had chosen anyone besides Daphne," Ginny pointed out, stepping out of his hold completely and throwing a confused look his way.

"Well, after Krum I thought it would be obvious we were going to pick the safest options," He cleared out, not understanding her confusion. "The girls we know."

"Obvious to whom?" She asked, raising her voice a little and crossing her arms in front of her body. "'Cause it's not obvious to me. Not at all."

"What? Ginny, no. No way are we risking something like that again. No way. We learned what we had to learn: this process is too high-profile and delicate to risky choosing wrong. Let Krum be our lesson; we need to go with who we know."

"What we need is to communicate more, that's what we need. No way are you making that decision on your own, okay? We are a family and we decide as a family. What happened doesn't give you the right to make choices for our future in a snap like that," She said, leaning closer for a second to add: "I'm going back to the party, to do what you should be doing — talking to the damn candidates. We'll talk about this later."

With that, Ginny turned on her heels and left him alone in the room. Her words still echoed around the place, and Harry hated himself just a little for allowing them to penetrate his head and make him question the decisions he had made for the future. His future. Their future.

He looked at the stairs leading to the library, from where he had just come from and had planned to return in order to hide from the craziness in the ballroom. In the other direction was the corridor leading to the said ballroom, from where he could hear the echo of Ginny's heels clicking against the marble.

Ginny's words rang louder in his head.

He cursed under his breath but turned towards the corridor.

.......................................................

They hit a door, not stopping to see if it was their room or not. If it had a flat surface in it, it would do.

Harry opened the door and picked her up, feeling her immediately wrap her legs around his waist. He backed down until he felt a bed behind his knees, where he sat, letting Hermione lose on his lap. They had too many clothes on, was all he could think at the moment. Harry wanted nothing more than to feel her skin against his.

As if reading his thoughts, Hermione vanished his clothes with a simple wave of a hand. It was a spell she trained hard to get properly, reaping the benefits of having lovers who never cared about their missing clothes. If they were to do the same with her, on the other hand...

She sucked hard on his shoulder, making all thoughts disappear from his mind. He absolutely would have a mark there the next day.

"Why are you still wearing clothes?" He mused, almost to himself, while he moved to unzip her skirt.

"Hmmm," She hummed in agreement, getting up from his lap to take both her skirt and shirt off — both left laying on the floor — leaving her with nothing but a small black thong.

Harry leaned back on the bed, taking a moment to gaze at the gorgeous body in from of him. Her creamy skin in sharp contrast to the black fabric. She didn't step any closer, knowing how much of a visual person he was. Instead, she reached for the only piece of fabric she had left on her body.

"Should I take it off?" She thankfully asked.

"Only if you turn around to do it," He said in response.

Her body moved promptly, leaving her perfect ass right in level with his eyes. When she bent to push the panty down, he had to suppress a moan from passing his lips. Unable to resist the temptation, Harry reached forward to caress her bottom with both of his hands, grabbing the soft flesh before letting his hands rest there while she got back up.

When she turned around, his hands automatically adjusted to go back to where they were. And when she finally returned to his lap, pressing her whole body weight against his hard erection, he couldn't hold back a groan.

Hermione was no help; she moved torturously slow, grinding against him. Harry needed more; the friction was barely enough to satisfy him. So, needing to feel her, he moved his hand from its comfortable position to her hot core, feeling how ready she was.

"No more foreplay, Harry, please," She begged, closing her eyes when his finger entered her. "I've been ready since dinner time."

"Are you sure?" He teased, moving another finger inside her.

"Shiiit," Hermione dragged the curse, tilting her head back in pleasure.

Sensing no more objection, Harry joined a third finger, feeling her body stretch to accommodate the intrusion. He kept the pace slow and steady, knowing it would only infuriate her further, but also knowing she wouldn't be able to resist it.

He moved his other hand to his marble hard erection, matching their pace together.

"Please," She exhaled, begging for more but moving her body up and down on his fingers nevertheless.

He withdrew his fingers to grab her hair, ignoring her whimper of protest. He pulled her head back, exposing her creamy neck to him.

"Ride me?" He asked hotly.

She adjusted her legs at the same moment, to hover above his cock, not caring when he didn't release her hair or lessened his grip. When she slowly sat down, they both groaned together, feeling the pleasure rip through their bodies at the same time.

Harry kissed her, needing to feel her lips moving against his own. Hermione kissed back with the same intensity she did everything in her life, and Harry knew his lips were already getting swollen from the pressure.

She pushed him down, laying him flat on the bed and leaving her with the space to move as she wished, riding him as hard as she could. The sign of her was almost pornographic in its sexy appeal — the sweat pooling on her neck, the head tilted back and her tits bouncing with each move she made.

It was all too much, the tension from before had already left him at an exploding point. He was almost there, but, again as if reading his thoughts, Hermione slowed down, resting her hands on his chest. The sudden change of pace was not a welcoming one, but when he moved to take charge, his partner waved his hands away, choosing to talk instead.

"You think she's actually attracted to Ginny, or is she just trying to compensate for her father?" Hermione surprisingly asked, halting her moves altogether and looking at him for a sensible answer.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to control his urge to thrust up.

"Hermione," He groaned when she moved forward to poke him in demand of a response.

"What?" She had the nerve to ask, even though she was aware of what she was doing. It was evident to see she was repressing a smile.

"I don't like her; you know it. Ginny seems to favor her in some weird way, however, so unless she does something wrong, I don't see what's so bad about it," Harry said, giving up and holding her hips firm into place.

"But you think she'll actively pursue Ginny, though?" Hermione wondered, scratching her nails in his chest.

"I don't know, woman," He admitted, frustrated. "Must we speak about it now?"

"Yes," She smiled but clenched her inner walls suddenly as she did, making her opening impossibly tight. It was punishment, clearly.

He immediately gripped harder, closing his eyes at the feeling.

"Move, Hermione," He growled, no longer willing to entertain the conversation.

"And if I don't?" She dared, raising her eyebrow.

Harry bent his right knee and threw his weight forward, flipping them over, landing her on the mattress and hovering on top of her body.

"I'll take the option out of your hands," He whispered in her ear, pleased to feel her body respond to the sudden movement.

"Yes," She moaned, in an entirely different tone from before.

Harry bit down on her neck hard enough to mark her skin while moving to hold her waist. He slid in and out of her at an increasing tempo, trying to control his strength at the same time.

Hermione grabbed his arms, digging her fingernails.

"Just give it to me," She breathed out, urging him on. "I want to feel this for days."

Her last words were his undoing, just as she knew they would be. He released her neck and held onto the headboard for support, trusting so hard she began to slide back with which one.

"Fuck," The grunt fell from his lips as she began to massage her clit while he slammed hard into her.

She was moaning and thrashing, her whole body flushed with pleasure and covered in sweat. Harry kept the pace brutal, feeling how she dug her nails into his arms and knowing it wouldn't be long before Hermione came.

Her expression was contorted, her eyes closed and her mouth opened as she breath began to quicken and her movements became frantic. He slammed into her while she rubbed her clit furiously.

"Fuck!" She screamed in sync with his forceful thrust when she came, withering beneath him as she rode the waves of pleasure.

Harry felt her wet canal pulsing with her orgasm, and lifted her right leg to cross over his, reaching closer and deeper inside her. Instead of slowing down, he kept going, knowing she was the most sensitive at the moment and taking advantage of that.

"Harry," She breathed out, the word almost incoherent. She grabbed a pillow beside her and covered her head, screaming in it.

"That's it, baby," He leaned down to suck on her nipple, aware of the fact that her second orgasm was quickly approaching.

She gasped and threw the pillow away. Harry felt his hair being tugged and released her nub to kiss her. His own body was beginning to tremble, pleasure seeping from every nerve of his body as he drove into her without stopping.

When Hermione came again, she bit his neck. Hard. The pain mixed with the intense pleasure was all it took to make him spasm inside her with a final deep slam.

His body collapsed atop of hers, her teeth still sunk into his neck and his cock still inside her. It didn't matter; his whole body felt boneless and sated.

A few minutes. He would give himself a few more minutes, and then he would leave. Everything else could wait for a little longer while he tried to catch his breath and feel his legs once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I went there. Please be gentle with me, alright? I have never before written any type of smut, so I struggled a whole lot to get to this point where I'm almost happy with how it turned out. If you all hated it and/or don't want any more sex scenes in the story, let me know in the reviews, but don't crush my spirit while doing so.


	29. Trapped Inside These Four Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _PLEASE READ THIS_
> 
> So, I wanted to take a moment to clarify a few points about me and about this story that I think are important moving forward. Some of these questions have come up more than once in reviews and since I cannot answer to each one individually, I decided to explain what I found to be essential here.
> 
> 1 - Writing is something I do for fun. I'm not a professional writer, which means I have a parallel life that demands a huge amount of energy and time from me. I'm currently in my last year of college, I'm working, and trying to maintain a somewhat healthy social life with my loved ones. So, I'm sorry, but I cannot put out chapters as fast as I probably should without compromising any of these parts of my life. They are gonna take a while to come, that's not going to change anytime in the future.
> 
> 2 - This story is going to be an uphill climb. I want to create what I believe to be a sincere, believable, and meaningful relationship between these characters. It wouldn't make sense for me to rush into a romance stage seeing as they still don't know or trust each other — that's just not how it happens in real life, and it's not how I envision their story to play out. I have many scenes yet to come that will play a major role in creating intimacy, trust, and friendship, between all of them — it's how I think it should be done. I cannot be untrue to who I am and to the story I have created.
> 
> 3 - It's not going to be a perfect journey. They are 21/22 years-old adults who have made many mistakes in the past and will continue to do so in their future — that's normal. I know a lot of you guys are used to reading stories where Harry, Hermione, and Ginny are genius, who know exactly how and what they are doing, so this story may seem a little bizarre and ridiculous because they have such flawed personalities, but I don't believe in perfection. I just don't. I think people screw up, make mistakes, say things they don't mean, rush into actions, and hurt those around them. That's my view on life, so that's what I try to portray. During this journey, they will get it wrong a lot of times before getting it right.
> 
> That's pretty much it, I think. I just want to say that this story is very special to me and that writing it has been such a growth experience and I'm so very thankful to everyone who has been supporting me and sending me love. I'm attached to these characters and I have major plans for them — it's all in my head. Stick around and enjoy the journey.
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine.

Harry ran, searching for cover as the deathly bright shots of color crossed the room over his head. He held the wand tight in his grip, ducking behind a couch as a red spell came near his right ear. He fell over his arm, trying to hold back the wince of pain radiating from his shoulder.

Things had gone downhill extremely fast.

He looked to his side and saw Ginny still hiding in the hallway, looking him in the eyes and giving a significant message with it. She was about to jump in the fight. He shook his head discretely, mentioning to the place where the guy was holding Gabrielle in his arms.

Harry quickly analyzed. Five men. Two were standing in front of the others, clearly meant to be the human shields if needed. They all had wands in their hands and wore all black clothes. The way they stood, the formation, the sharp stares… those men were not civilians, it was clear. And even though he had seen in Appoline's mind that they were supposed to be kidnappers, she had had the impression that they were opportunists who took relatively easy jobs for some quick money. They were supposed to be untrained ambitious tugs. Clearly, she had been wrong.

Gabrielle looked rough. That was the first thing that came to mind when he saw her, trapped in the hold of a burly man, standing in the back — arms around her middle and wand pointed to her head. She was tied up with thick black ropes and her clothes were torn in several different places, showing the wounds and bruises underneath. However, what worried him the most was the maniac look she had on her face. Gabrielle's eyes were sparkling in a weird yellow tone; her hair seemed almost static, her whole stance screamed feral.

Clearly, they hadn't kept their end of the deal.

Harry had to come up with a plan that wouldn't put Gabrielle in any more danger than she already was. He wondered for a brief instant if the decision to solve matters by himself had been a mistake. He was putting Ginny in danger and placing Gabrielle in an even worse position. The chances of everybody getting out without blood being shed was practically null.

But no. He wouldn't allow himself to question the choices that had led him to where he was. Gabrielle was obviously hurt and in need of medical attention — who knows the extent of the damage those guys had inflicted on her? They were there; he would just have to make the best of the situation.

There were aurors outside strategically positioned to watch any movements coming from within the house, while others tried to break the wards surrounding the place. Which meant that the moment the spells had begun to flow around they had noticed — it would be impossible not to. Right now there would be teams of professionals trying their best to crush down the wards and break in — the finesse and care from before would be forgotten in favor of brutal force. On one hand, that meant more targets for the tugs and more room for Harry to move around and get a chance at releasing Gabrielle; on the other hand, they were tied down by the Ministry laws which demanded they tried to capture the criminals before employing lethal force. Harry had no such qualms — he would do whatever it was necessary to save her.

"Drop your wand and surrender now, Harry Potter," A deep voice from behind the couch sounded, and the spells crossing the room seized. "We won't ask again."

They did not mention Ginny, Harry noticed with relief, which indicated they did not have additional wards inside the house. He could work with that.

"Alright," He agreed. "I'm going to roll it to you."

With that, he allowed the holly wand to leave his grip and roll in their general direction without leaving the safety of his hiding place. He took the chance to look at his girlfriend and mention for her to wait. Her forehead was deeply creased and she looked ready to murder someone, but Harry trusted she would follow his command for now.

"Raise your hands above your head," The commanding voice ordered once more. "Get up."

"How do I know you're not going to kill me once I do so?" He asked, gauging how willing to negotiate they would be.

"You don't."

Well, apparently not even a little.

Harry raised his hands and moved from his place behind the couch to face the five men, who — apart from the one holding Gabrielle — all had their wands trained on him. The second she saw him she began to trash in the man's hold, whimpering in protest as he tightened his already painfully looking hold over her ribs.

"Hey, I'm surrendering. You're hurting her," He chided, eyes going over her body in search of more serious wounds.

"Shut up," The man on the left said, in the same voice as before. Short and mechanical. " _Incarcerous._ "

Harry could've jumped to the side before the spell tied his hands and feet together — almost making him lose his balance and fall to the ground — but he wanted to see what was their goal with all that.

"Should I call-" One of the men in the back began, beginning to lower the collar of his thick sweater.

"Not yet," The man who Harry had decided must be the boss interrupted. "Где Портшлюс¹?"

The Russian flowed from them with the same easiness as the English had only seconds before — it was impressive, Harry had been convinced they were British.

"В подвале²," The one at his side answered in the same voice they all seemed to have — a robotic, even tone. The whole hostage situation didn't appear to faze any of them. It once again reminded Harry that those weren't untrained wizards — that wasn't their first round.

"Михаил, возьмите портки и наши сумки. Позвоните ей по дороге - мы идем домой³," He said to the man at his right, who only nodded in agreement before lowering his arm and leaving the room with no further incentive.

It was his chance. The man would pass right in front of Ginny, giving her the perfect opportunity to attack — Harry knew she wouldn't hesitate. In a second, the wand that had been previously hidden in the arm of his jacket went into his waiting hand, pointed to the rope surrounding his wrists. He took a deep breath and waited. Any moment now. One, two, there, four –

The light came from the hallway at the same time as the man jumped and screamed in anger, obviously engaging with his girlfriend. Sparing them no further thought, Harry released himself and launched to the side, a _confringo_ leaving his mouth at the same time.

Throwing a shield up, he went for the man further in the back, holding the part-veela — the _expelliarmus_ out of his mouth before the man could react.

Unfortunately, Harry had been right. Those men had some serious training under their belts — and they were going for the jugular. When he stretched to snatch the man's wand out of the air, the distinctive color green of a killing curse struck at his shield, inches from his face.

It served to make him realize that once again he was in a position where he had to fight to protect his life. It was a defeating fact, to see that despite his choices in life, he would have to kill once more. When he left Hogwarts, the offer to join the Aurors had been tempting. That's what his best friend had chosen to do, plus the need for revenge… the natural way would've been to do so. He knew a path had already been carved out for him: trainee, Auror, Head Auror… It was all planned out for the Chosen One.

Harry chose differently. He had seen too many deaths, watched far too many good people fall — he wanted a life of peace, managing both of his titles and voting laws that could bring chance into the wizarding world.

It had all lead to that moment, however, where he would be standing in front of four men, facing the decision of killing them or leaving Gabrielle to her fate. If he died at the hands of those Russians, Ginny and Gabrielle's life would also be forfeit.

With that in mind — and, although Harry would never admit, no little influence from the elder wand in his hand — Harry allowed his familiar body responses to resurge once more, his body rolling on the floor as he deflected different spells coming his way.

The one who had been holding Gabrielle was now pushing her down to free his hands to give space for a pair of cursed knives. Hermione's arm flashed through his mind and Harry grabbed his wand a bit tighter. The others were screaming fast in Russian — there was no way of knowing what they said. Harry dodged a _crucio_ , pretending not to be paying attention to the noises coming from Ginny's general direction, as he threw a vase in the head of their leader.

Harry felt the mental hackles going up.

Four men. One to his right, three to the left. Three with wands, one with knives. The one in the front also had his old wand in his other hand.

.............................................................

"I forget how in the zone you get," Ginny commented in a soft voice, and Harry could read in between the lines.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this again," He said, fighting to keep a grimace off his face.

His girlfriend rolled her eyes at that, exhaling in a puff and releasing some tension.

"You're so full of shit," she said. "I'm not frickin' scared of you. Shut up."

Harry could feel the blood trickling down his left arm, faster than he was comfortable with, in reality. In a perfect world, that would be the moment to lay down on a comfortable bed and wait for medical treatment without further complications; however, seeing as Gabrielle still looked quite feral and instead of relaxing at the sight of her unconscious kidnapers, seeming to be growing more and more restless as the time went by, his deserved rest would have to wait.

He murmured an _episkey_ under his breath, knowing he was only preventing the blood to leak out and not actually healing the underneath tissue. It would have to do, for now. He moved towards the part-veela, trying not to recoil under her predatory stare as he got closer. In his peripheral vision, he could see Ginny checking the bodies laid around them and tying them up together, back to back.

"Gabrielle, can you hear me?" He asked, feeling stupid for the obvious question but unable to come up with anything better on the spot.

"Yesss," She hissed, somehow managing to sound and look alluring even tied up and dirty.

"Are you hurt?" Another stupid question, another needed information.

That question didn't seem to register, though, because she offered no verbal answer and merely maintained her frankly disturbing stare at him. Harry took another step forward, already waving her loose despite his internal musings. It wasn't the time to play it safe; she might have some serious injuries.

The second the ropes were no longer restraining her movements, the part-veela pounced. It was elegant, and if Harry wasn't the target, he might have even admired the ability necessary for such effortless strike; seeing as he was, indeed, the one she took down, the only thought going through his head was how to remove her without worsening her wounds.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice called the part-veela's attention, and the girl moved her head sideways enough to bare her teeth at his girlfriend in a show of possessiveness — quite similar to how a wild animal might protect its kill.

"Ginny, don't," He begged through gritted teeth, feeling the pain exploding from the back of his head where it hit the ground on his way down. "I'm alright; it's fine. She's hurt."

"She's going to hurt y-" Whatever else she might have said was interrupted by the front door bursting open as a team of aurors barged inside the house.

Obviously. They couldn't have chosen a more inopportune moment to interrupt.

"Hands above your head-" Some screamed.

"Release the girl-"

"Miss, step away from them!"

"-where we can see them-"

"Hands where we can see 'em," The bloke in the front ordered, in a clear French accent, as he pointed his wand at them while the others surrounded them.

"I'm not fucking holding her," Harry pointed out, trying to see them from behind the curtain of hair that fell from Gabrielle's head.

"Damn," a blond auror whistled, sounding quite impressed with what he saw. "They sure did a number on these scumbags."

"Lee," The man who seemed to be in charge chided, although somewhat defeated — as though he couldn't be bothered to try with him anymore.

"What?" The guy responded. "They did. I'm pretty sure two are dead."

"Three," Ginny corrected unrepentant. "The big one there, with the missing arm, tried to explode my head."

"Harsh," The man mumbled under his breath, which forced Harry to swallow down a laugh that threatened to explode out of him. His position, however, was so damn uncomfortable that it prevented anything funny to be actually funny.

Gabrielle, clearly overwhelmed by the intruders, released a growl that Harry might have found sexy. It was threatening and warning, all wrapped in a single clear noise that rang across the room, drowning all other noises out completely. Her arms were still on each side of Harry's head and she was still covering most of his body with her own, hiding him from the outside.

"He'sss miiine," She hissed once more, this time more frightening than alluring.

"Do not touch her," Harry interjected when he saw an auror moving closer to Ginny, who had stepped closer to where he was sprawled on the floor. The man halted his moves instantly.

"Ginny, please go with them. I think I need a moment alone with Gabrielle."

"Are you insane? I won't leave you-"

"Lord Potter, please refrain from giving orders when you have committed at least five different crimes in the past hour. Miss Weasley, step away from them," The same bloke from before chimed in, once again trying to step closer to them but stopping when Gabrielle once again growled in displeasure. "For the love of Merlin, what have you done to the girl?"

"Nothing! She jumped on me the second I untied her," Harry protested, wincing as the girl on top of him dug her knee a little deeper into his stomach. "It's not like I'm holding her."

"Just push her aside," Another Auror suggested, in a bored tone — almost like the whole situation was just another hassle he couldn't bring himself to be bothered with.

"Is that your clever professional advice?" The redheaded by his side poked sarcastically, kneeling beside them and leaning her back against the couch.

"Miss Weasley, you need to-" The team captain informed, at the same time as his subordinates.

"Miss, you can't-"

"We need to-"

"Oh, shut up," She complained. "Clearly she's not planning on getting off anytime soon."

While they argued around her, Gabrielle seemed to lose her interest in the man surrounding her and began to nuzzle Harry's neck, bumping her nose with his chin ever so slightly as she started to groan contentedly against his skin.

"Miss Weasley, you don't seem to be taking this situation as serious as you ought to," The captain said, decisively stepping closer this time and gripping his wand tighter in his grip. "You and Lord Potter could be facing a long sentence in prison for this endeavor. We do not wish to further aggravate Miss Delacour's wounds, but it might be wise to render her unconscious for the time being."

"You don't think I have fucking tried that?" Harry asked from his place on the floor, no longer able to see the man as Gabrielle pushed his neck to the side to assault his neck. "I've been trying since she pushed me to the ground — do you know nothing of veelas?"

Harry felt teeth grazing up and down his neck for a few seconds before she moved to the part where his shoulder began and bit down. It wasn't a sexy love bite, Gabrielle was marking him like an owner would with its cow. In one motion, her sharp teeth cut through his skin, drawing blood.

His instant reaction was to flinch away, but she tightened her hold on his arms and sucked some of the blood before removing her teeth and licking the wound closed.

Even though it didn't seem that way to him, Harry felt quite sure that the process took no more than a few minutes. And it seemed to drain her too, because as soon as she licked the mark closed, Gabrielle went slack on top of him, eyes rolling over.

"Call Padma!" Harry ordered, struggling to find a pulse on her neck as the Auror's team searched the house and Langford came forward and began spitting out the few healing spells he knew to close down her leaking wounds.

Ginny ran to the fireplace, calling St Mungo's to fetch Padma. It wasn't ideal, but Harry couldn't move her and a familiar face would be welcome.

Gabrielle's fingers were still wrapped tightly around his wrist even in her unconscious state, and each time he tried to regain mobility of that limb she groaned in desperation and clung closer to him. He resigned himself to sit down next to her place her head in his lap. Thankfully, Padma didn't take long to floo in, quickly taking in her surroundings and zeroing on Gabrielle's body on the floor.

"What happened? Is she under?" Padma directed her questions to the auror, in a clear professional mode. Harry had no idea what she meant by the last question, but felt the need to add:

"She was feral when we got here. She's part-veela."

"I don't know much about veelas," She admitted, wand going over Gabrielle's body in what appeared to be a diagnostic spell. "I can only treat her physical injuries, but I don't know if that will be enough to wake her up."

"It's alright," Harry said, at last wanking his arm from the girl's grip and moving to stand up. There was something he needed to check before the Aurors took the bodies away. "She will need to be moved to a hospital anyway, I think. I was just worried because she passed out so suddenly... we don't know what happened to her while she was held captive."

"I'll do my best," The woman in front of him promised. "She's not in critical condition, Harry. She'll be fine."

With that information Harry moved to where Ginny had tied the Russians together, trying to be inconspicuous as he got closer to them and shoved the shirt of the one who had held Gabrielle down, exposing his neck and upper back.

There it was.

Harry didn't want to believe. He went around them, pushing down the collars of their shirts desperately — searching, hoping. But no. It was there, branded on their backs — all in the very same place.

The mark was distinctive.

The black circle was small, no bigger than a thumb, but from it emerged the head of a snake bearing its fangs with venom dripping down. The eyes were bloody red, the skin green. The tattoo was obviously magical and it moved ever so often, seeming to hiss in displeasure.

Harry didn't have to guess what it meant, neither did he have to search for the reference. It may have another name, but it was still a dark mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN2: Soo... this chapter ended up taking forever to finish because every time I wanted to end it, plot happened.
> 
> FYI, I know absolutely nothing of Russian, so all the translations are from Google. If someone knows the language and gets offended at the badly constructed sentences, I apologize.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> _¹Where's the portkey?_
> 
> _²In the basement_
> 
> _³Mikhail, grab the portkey and our bags. Call her on the way – we're going home_


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Here it is, the new chapter. Hope you guys are excited about it!
> 
> And look at that: 300 kudos! This is incredible, thank you! 
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope.

She was lying on the bed, in the exact same position they had placed her over 5 hours ago. Gabrielle didn't stir; she didn't move. Harry could almost hear the monitor beeping, even if there wasn't one.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

His thoughts never seemed to stop long enough for Harry to have any reprieve from the pounding headache he had going on for hours on end. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to distract himself with a physical pain instead of the other kinds of pain nagging at his insides.

_Harry had screwed up from the very start. The group had noticed them the second they crossed the wards surrounding the place, and when he finally stepped into the living room, they had a welcome committee ready._

Padma sat at the end of Gabrielle's bed, dutifully watching over her sleep. She had a deep look of concentration etched on her face, as though the mission of keeping the half-veela was sorely her own and of vital importance — nevermind that she had no special knowledge of veelas or victims of torture. It was somehow captivating: watching her watch someone else.

When she raised her arm to cast another series of diagnostic spells Harry managed to stay put in his place, not even flinching in surprise. It was a procedure Padma had done a few time already since they had settled in the hospital, and although Harry had reacted quite violently the first time and unexplainably surprised the second time, he had grown used to the routine. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who didn't trust the staff of unknown places.

In the middle of all the chaos that surrounded them, Harry almost wanted to ask if she was going to be in trouble for pulling a disappearing act in the middle of her shift at St Mungo's. Surely floo'ing away to another country without so much as a word of warning would be frowned upon, even with a good enough reason. And yet, despite the insane situation she found herself in, Padma didn't seem to be concerned for her job — or anything else, really. Other than a slightly tired demeanor, she looked no different from any other day he had seen her.

It made him wonder if somehow, unlike him, she managed to not have the images of the corpses going on her head nonstop, overlapping any other rational thought her mind tried to provide her with.

He was doing his best to stay focused on the present to try to come up with some good explanation as to why he had invaded the house but all his mind seemed to come up with were memories from the night before.

_The diffindo flashed inches from his face, drawing his attention to the bright light and forcing him to swerve away clumsy to avoid getting hit. Adrenaline pumping, he immediately raised his right arm to respond with a sequence of his own spells, hoping to take at least one of them down before they all converged to where he stood._

Gabrielle was still in a feral state. Her claws were out and her skin emitted some sort of magical glow — they hadn't been able to force her body to shift back. They had contacted Fleur and were currently waiting for her to arrive. More than anyone else, she would be qualified to give them directions. Harry still didn't know how to tell her that her sister had six broken ribs, had to have three bones regrown and she showed signs of torture, though.

No matter what had happened, they had been too late.

_The adrenaline burned more than anything else. The allure from the wand was nearly irresistible in its appeal; Harry wanted to lose his shields and show the true power of the elder wand. The reasons not to do so were becoming foggier as the hexes and curses flew around._

Harry reached out to touch the back of her hand, caressing the soft skin in front of him and feeling the unnatural warmth coming from it. When she failed to respond to his touch, he allowed his hand to explore the fingernails-turned-claws emerging from her small hand. It looked almost wrong on her delicate body but also felt surprisingly soft to the touch.

"She's gonna be okay, Harry," Padma encouraged in a soft voice. "Her body needs the rest to restore itself. Don't lose hope so quickly."

_He raised a protego quickly in front of his body as the man in front of him screamed a crucio in his direction, his face twisted in a mask of contempt and derision. He clearly knew who Harry was and did not care for him at all._

"Gabrielle!" The cry of surprise jerked Harry from his daydreaming and prompted his body to slide in front of the bed, positioning in between the door and the girl still unconscious behind him. He didn't even bother with a wand — his magic was already so close to the surface that it would take very little prompting to get it to do what he needed.

He must have looked quite a sigh, still dirty and bruised from the confrontation because Fleur halted instantly and raised her hands in surrender, even though her eyes were still shifting quickly between her sister and him.

"Arry," She began, moving slightly to make room for Ginny to pass through the door as well.

She said nothing else, it wasn't needed. Harry signed, tiredly. He moved from his place and dropped his weight in the leather chair beside the bed, trying to get his pulse to slow down from its uncontrollable pounding.

Just Fleur. Just Fleur.

_Who were these people?_

The second Harry no longer stood in her way; the part-veela ran towards her sister, mumbling under her breath words Harry had no understanding of.

_He only had time to see the yellow burst for a second before it hit his ribs dead on, making him flinch and miss a step. Harry winced, feeling a sharp pain erupting from his left side instantaneously. At least three broken ribs, if not more. He got lucky — some of the other spells being thrown around would've been far less generous._

There were crystal clear drops running down her face; one after the other, the tears marked her face. The tugging Harry felt in his heart was just another feeling he ignored. He didn't have the time to wallow in guilt.

Coming through the window, the familiar otter floated inside the room without its usual twists and jumps. Harry could swear it was frowning down at him.

As soon as it landed next to them, Hermione's voice came from its mouth:

"Wayne Hopkins is in our house, spitting mad and cursing at the wind. Apparently, the French Head-Auror has already requested your pre-trial detention and barred Ginny from leaving the country until further notice. I've already contacted Draco and he's arranging a portkey as you listen to this message. I'll stay and try to keep this mess from making into the newspapers — I've already called Luna. Daphne and George have offered to help with the public speech you'll most likely be requested to make. We'll speak when you get home."

The entire thing was spoken in a fake even tone that transmitted a thousand hidden messages. Clearly, Harry would have a lot of explaining to do once he managed to clear his name and return to England. He wasn't naive enough to believe he could excuse himself out of that conversation.

It was time to fix the mess he made.

_One down, three to go._

"Harry, it's a matter of time before aurors come looking for us here," Ginny pointed out. "Perhaps we should go over our story before that."

"I'll help in any way I can," Fleur added, her eyes leaving her sister for the first time since she had sat atop of the girl's bed. "Obviously my parents... But I'm the acting head of the family in a situation such as this."

"This won't be necessary," Harry said, shaking his head. "As Hermione said, Draco will be here any moment now — he'll handle the bureaucratic process. As for the story... well, there's not much to be said other than the truth. Gabrielle is under my jurisdiction as a contestant for The Announcement, as are all the other girls. It's an ancient law, but it still stands. I had every right to go after her."

"Yeah, perhaps, but I'm pretty sure the mess we left behind wasn't predicted in that law." Ginny winced as she spoke of the men they killed. Her attempt at softening the blow was useless, to say the least.

_They weren't trying to kill him, though. None of them had used the killing curse or any other life-threatening hexes. Why?_

"Actually, as the head of his family, 'Arry has the right to kill if it's proven that Gabrielle's life was at risk," Fleur corrected, squeezing her sister's hand as to assure herself that she was still there. "How-how... was she--Is that applicable?"

"Yes," Harry said and left it at that. No need to give Fleur details that would only serve to hurt her further.

"I'll give a testimony if you need one," she said, swallowing loudly after a long moment of silence.

"So will I," Padma added, speaking for the first time since Fleur joined them. And despite the situation and the delicate matter being discussed, her voice still sounded the same: soft and calm. It had to be some kind of skill.

"I don't believe that will be necessary, but I appreciate it," He thanked.

"You don't? Harry, I think that you're seriously downplaying the situation."

"No, I'm not. I just know enough to know an arrest is improbable for us."

"Improbable?"

He didn't get the chance to respond, because the aurors chose that moment to enter the room an announce their prison statement.

"Lord Potter, Miss. Weasley, please surrender your wand and follow us to the ministry," A serious looking auror said, opening his hand in a silent request. "Any attempt at escaping will be considered as an additional crime to your sentence."

Sentence. As if they had been judged and sentenced already. Curious.

_He was surrounded by the three men, relying on his shields to protect his back as he tried to take someone down without letting himself more open to attacks. However, despite his careful strategy, one second of distraction was all it took for a slicing spell to hit his upper left arm, cutting through the muscle. Harry cursed loudly as the pain brought back memories of the war he'd rather forget altogether._

Harry surrendered his holly wand — maybe with an easiness that had everything to do with the foreign magic still clinging to it — mentioning for Ginny to do the same when she hesitated for a moment longer than necessary.

Before leaving the room he turned back once to nod to the girls being left behind. It was good seeing familiar faces taking care of Gabrielle if he couldn't be the one to do so anymore.

_Harry allowed his sense of rightness and justice to shut down, accepting the rage coursing through his veins and gripping his dammed wand much tighter in his hand. He would not analyze, he would not judge, he would not hesitate. Harry wanted it to be over._

He opened his eyes to see a dark office with no windows.

Was he at the Ministry already? His body had moved, but his mind hadn't gone alongside in that journey.

Suddenly, Draco walked into the room, perfectly dressed and face twisted into his perfect sneer. It amazed Harry that he had never lost the ability to look like everyone else's presence offended him in a deep level — it was a talent to look so thoroughly disgusted while still maintaining a polished and semi-polite expression. Sometimes Harry wondered if he simply mirrored the expression from Lucius or if there were classes involved to perfect the technic.

"Lord Malfoy," A man said, extending his hand for Draco to shake. Harry had the feeling the man had introduced himself to him at some point between the hospital and the Ministry, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember who he was. "I'm Francois Doubout, the Head-Auror of the French Ministry."

Draco nodded his head in a polite greeting, before mentioning to Harry and Ginny.

"Is there a reason why my clients are being kept in the Ministry? A pre-trial detention such as this is highly uncommon, especially for a Lord."

_A series of dark spells flowed from his mouth in succession. So much for being the poster boy of the light._

"Well, this case is not common in any sense of the word, Lord Malfoy, so I'm afraid special precautions are required. Your clients did intervene with our operation, invading a ward-kept house to rescue a part-veela member of the Delacour family."

"I'm aware, yes," He said, not once shifting to a different expression. "It's also my understanding that your team failed to enter the house after days of knowing its locations."

The man frowned, displeased at having the ability of his team brought into question.

"It's protocol to wait until it's deemed safe to invade. The disturbance of the wards could've caused the suspects to flee or harm the victim."

"I see," Draco said, although from his tone alone one could understand that he saw nothing. "The suspects, you say? Five men kidnap an underage, unmated part-veela and keep her captive for over a week and you call them suspects, yet my clients are considered criminals already?"

"They killed three of those men, Lord Malfoy. We entered the house to find three men killed, two unconscious and the Delacour girl on top of Lord Potter."

"I wasn't holding her," Harry felt the irrational need to point that out, even though no one suggested that he had, indeed, held her down. And from the sharp glare, Draco sent his way, his comment was not appreciated.

_Harry blasted the couch where the leader had been previously standing, making wood and blood fly across the room. The guy screamed while he fell down, clutching his leg desperately as glugs of blood left his body at an alarming speed. One of his foot was missing. So was half of his other leg. Harry stupefied him before he could do something about it._

Harry did notice when Draco and Doubout left the room, only to be quickly replaced by the French Minister himself. And although Harry might not know a lot about international politics, even he knew who Tadeo Stretton was.

"Minister," Harry acknowledged, standing up from his seat. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ginny do the same, repeating his greetings.

"Well, you've certainly created quite the uproar here in my auror department," The Minister began, sounding quite amused despite the serious mood settled in the room. "It's not every day I see my men running around like that, I assure you."

Harry knew it was a good sign for them that the Minister was in such a good mood, but he couldn't really find it in himself to respond in a similar fashion. He had news to give.

_Sweat was dripping from his forehead, blood was seeping from the wound in his arm, his ribs protested with each move he made. How were they so good?_

In one of those coincidences of fate, Kingsley strolled into the room at that exact moment, followed by Wayne, who had his lips tightly pressed in a fine line.

"Kingsley, Hopkins," The Minister welcomed, shaking their hands.

_Two down, two to go._

Ginny shifted in her seat next to him, biting at her lips nervously.

"So, what do we have here?" Kingsley began, summoning chairs to sit down.

_Ginny joined the fight, looking only slightly worse for wear after her own fight with the man who had gone in her direction. She wasted no time in pleasantries — the first spell that came from her mouth was a sectumsempra. Harry had taught her that spell._

"They were marked," Harry wasted no time. "All of them."

"What?" Wayne asked, surprise replacing his previous angry expression.

Ginny gasped, covering her mouth with her hand and reaching to squeeze his tight.

"A dark mark," He explained, feeling a wave of tiredness. "I had a feeling… they were too trained, too experienced. Clearly not the tugs we believed them to be. It was there, below their necks. A snake, too."

"They all had it?"

"Of course," He confirmed. "All exactly the same mark, in the exact same spot. A snake… I could feel the dark magic behind it — I'm sure it's not an ordinary tattoo."

Silence. Whatever they had intended to say was silenced by the weight of the news Harry had just told. Fresh out of their own war, Kingsley, Wayne, and Ginny all seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the moment he would announce it had all been some kind of inappropriate joke. He wouldn't, of course, but the desire to do so was strong, even if only to pretend for a few more moments.

"Harry, no. That's- no," Ginny began, squeezing the life out of his leg. "That can't be."

_He jumped in front of her, covering her body with his as the man came close enough to use his fists and punch the person standing in front of him. Pain. The uppercut was enough to leave Harry dizzy for a few seconds. The nonverbal, wandless spell that erupted from him in response didn't have a name or a concept, Harry was tired and hurt; he needed the fight to be over, needed Ginny to be safe. When the man fell dead on his feet, Harry tried not to wince._

"They seemed like tugs to you?" He asked.

She sighed: "…No."

_Three down, one to go._

"Why were you at that house?" Kingsley finally asked.

"Does it matter?"

"I believe it matters, yes," Stretton said, turning to face him with a solemn expression. "This information is grave, indeed, Lord Potter. Please, speak freely. I assure you no one will leave here in chains. As I'm sure your lawyer has already explained to you, The Announcement creates special circumstances."

Why the pretense of arresting him, then? The question burned at the tip of his tongue.

"Her father and sister asked me to," He gave in. "I waited for as long as I could."

"Her father? Damon is in a coma, as far as I'm aware."

"He is."

"Well, laws don't seem to matter much to you, do they, Lord Potter?" The Minister questioned, glancing at Wayne for a moment, catching the man's displeased face.

_He seemed to realize he would not win the fight because he ceased the attacks and became much more preoccupied with defending himself from the hexes coming his way. His eyes searched frantically all over the room for a way out — Harry wanted to lower his wand, but it was impossible._

"I believe in doing what's right."

"There's a lawful way of doing what's right," Wayne protested, hands twitching.

_He screamed. So loud, so suddenly. One minute he was attacking Ginny in a desperate attempt to leave the fight with his life, the next minute he felt to the ground screaming as his right arm was sliced off with a single wave of a hand._

"The law hasn't exactly been an example of rightness in my life, Wayne," Harry snapped. "Excuse me if I don't take it as my religion."

"And you think Krum has anything to do with this?" Kingsley asked, ignoring his employee.

_Ginny was the one moved the body and stopped the bleeding, even though it hardly mattered anymore. Harry watched, wondering if he would've done the same if he had been alone. She moved to do the same for the leader, who was still bleeding from his leg. It also didn't matter, he was already dead, too. Harry gripped his wand even tighter._

"...I don't know," He admitted. "We have no reasons to believe that they are connected, but it seems too much like a coincidence that it's all happening at the same time, and life's taught me that there's no such thing as coincidences."

_The screams seemed to go on and on inside his mind, ignoring the unconscious bodies surrounding him. Would these men join the other dead people who haunted his dreams?_

"They were all speaking Russian, though," Ginny pointed out, looking at Harry with an expression that told him he would not like what she had to say next. "And we happen to know a Russian politician."

Harry took a deep breath, reminding himself that it wasn't the time to lose it.

_Now wasn't the time to lose it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not clear, the parts in italic are flashbacks.


End file.
